


Like Lovers Do

by fayrenz



Category: SHINee
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayrenz/pseuds/fayrenz
Summary: Based on the below prompt:"Taemin is a hitman. His mission is to kill Minho. But they fall in love."
Relationships: Choi Minho/Lee Taemin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 36





	1. Risky Endeavors

**Author's Note:**

> \- I wrote the majority of this back in 2017 so please excuse some old references  
> \- Title comes from the [song of the same name by Hey Violet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBJ_dzuTab0)  
> \- Cross-posted to [asianfanfics](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1461260/like-lovers-do)

  
  


The many chandeliers lit the ballroom brilliantly, dousing everything in gold. The attendance was dressed lavishly, akin to a thief’s dream. Amongst them was _he_ , unadorned by jewels and luxurious items, just a few simple rings on his dainty fingers, a trail of silver studs in his ears, dressed suavely in leather pants, and a smart blazer that concealed a relaxed, semi buttoned shirt. A thin choker rested on his Adam's Apple, which he casually fidgeted with, often running his fingers through his blonde hair. His grey lensed, pretty almond eyes roamed the ambiance rather listlessly as he began to delicately play with his champagne glass instead, leaning at the bar counter. 

There were people dancing in the vast space in the middle, while some dined at the tables and some stood in cliques, socializing. The host, the proud owner of this mansion, was an elderly yet elegant man of mixed descent– half Korean and half French. He ran a reputed business conglomerate with its roots spread all over France, and his subsidiary had experienced a successful debut in South Korea, which was exactly what this extravagant banquet was all about.

Standing next to the host, in the clique of what was perhaps the most successful businessmen of the year, was another, a man strikingly younger in the group, dressed in a crisp tuxedo. He was easily the most handsome and sophisticated in the entire room with his tall, strong physique, ebony hair parted to the side, his youth evident in his smile and his alluringly arrogant doe eyes. Those eyes did not roam the ballroom but remained on a sole person, the person who finally met his gaze, smirking before his grey eyes returned to straying here and there.

A while later, _he_ turned to get his drink refilled but someone had occupied the seat on his side, halting the bartender from pouring champagne, “Dalmore 62,” He said, “I believe my assistant had given it to you for safekeeping?”

The bartender’s eyes widened, “Ah! Yes, yes.” He grew embarrassed before scurrying away, returning with an expensive, vintage bottle of liquor, adorned with a fancy seal, “It would be my honor to serve you, Mr. Choi.”

_Mr. Choi_ gestured to him to serve his company, before meeting amused grey eyes.

“Is it really worth sharing such a rare whiskey with a complete stranger?” He softly asked as he watched the decades-long seal on the bottle being carefully broken, “And, if I am not wrong, that was your present for the host.”

“It won’t taste worth the millions I spent on it, drinking with him,” _Mr. Choi_ answered with a small, narcissistic smile, as he raised his glass, “I have a feeling it might, with you.”

_His_ cheeks lifted as a small smile graced his delicate face and he clinked his glass with Mr. Choi’s, “I doubt Park Jinho’s company would be that dry.” He turned on his stool, his eyes finding the group surrounding the host which was now short of one man.

“It isn’t. But unfortunately, he was getting on my nerves,” Mr. Choi took a tasteful sip of his drink, “Keeps praising his daughter.”

“I wouldn’t blame him,” _He_ turned back, his grey, mischievous eyes meeting those handsomely pretentious ones, “I bet there is no father who wouldn’t want _Choi Minho_ as their son-in-law.”

“Ah,” Minho smirked, “My reputation precedes me.” He placed his glass back, “But I can marry no one’s daughter.”

“Hmm,” He played with his drink gracefully, “And why is that?” He asked, despite knowing the answer.

Minho shifted closer, reaching for the other’s hand on the counter, grazing his knuckles before he held it, whispering, “How about I tell you in private?”

He got off his stool and leaned closer, whispering into Minho’s ear, “I’d like that.” 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


His hands grasped his hair, pulling Minho away so they both could take a breath, but Minho opposed the hold and kissed him again, his hands tracing his waist before he picked him up and pinned him better against the wall, leveling their heights. Minho broke away, kissing his chin, down that slender neck, pulling at the choker with his teeth, letting it go to hit his skin with a small snap before he kissed down further, suckling and leaving marks at his collarbones. 

“May I know your name?”

_He_ chuckled, breathless, “Isn’t it a little too late to ask that?”

Minho straightened up, his breath hot and ticklish against his skin as he rose and met his hazy eyes, “It’s never too late for anything, babe.”

“Taemin,” He whispered against his lips, kissing him, tempted by Minho’s invasive, lustful gaze. 

“Taemin,” Minho repeated, grazing Taemin’s lips with his thumb as he kissed the side of his neck, “The ambiance of Mr. Park’s bedroom is compelling… but I’d prefer we continue this back at my hotel room.”

Taemin chuckled, biting his lip as he felt Minho’s hand find a way under his shirt, “You must _stop_ first to take me there, Mr. Choi.”

Minho smirked, taking his hands off Taemin reluctantly, giving Taemin his hand instead, which Taemin took. And Minho led him out, unaware of the pill Taemin had slipped into the jug of water sitting on the bedside table.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Taemin tilted his black cap, keeping his eyes on the road from the window of a bakery’s restroom. It was on the topmost level, the floors below belonging to other restaurants. He sniffled, the smell of bread was, fortunately, overwhelming the other scents that could be wafting the air. The window had been shut tightly for long. It had barely opened a sliver, but it was enough for him to get a good look. He took off his cap and ran his gloved fingers through his dark hair, before adjusting the clear safety glasses on his nose and wearing his cap. His eyes sparked with alertness the very next moment, finding a queue of cars slowly turning into the lane. His lips tugged into a small smirk and he positioned his rifle, which barely peeked out of the gap. He positioned his aim and started waiting for the cars to stop. 

The cars stopped one by one and the middle one had stopped right in front of the entrance to the convention center. The scattered crowd around that space was now clamored around the entrance, waiting for doors of the car to open. Taemin pressed a button on the side of his glasses and they instantly turned opaque. He pulled the trigger the very next second and swiftly pulled out his rifle from the gap, wrapping up his gear in his backpack. He jumped off the stack of toilet paper packs and kicked them back under the basin before he walked out, taking the stairs and exiting the complex, pressing a button on his smartwatch the moment he had walked out.

The people clamoring around the car were growing noisier and anxious because the person they had been waiting for was not stepping out. A woman from the car in front quickly made her way to open the door. And that was when Taemin heard it, though he was now a good distance away. 

A shrill scream that overpowered the entire crowd.

He smiled, confirming his job to be done.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The room was huge and lit brightly, the walls entirely covered with nothing but magnetic boards that were filled with pictures, articles and other pieces of information scrawled on colored paper with markers. Each wall had a desk, cluttered with all kinds of things, except the one in the center which was decluttered and curved, following the shape of the huge, curved screen suspended in the middle of the room. There were various application windows open on it, some blank, some had live footage of certain places, some were filled with code, but the biggest window was flashing the news.

_“J-Mart remains indefinitely closed following the sudden demise of their CEO and Chairman of J Group, Park Jinho. Reports reveal that his death was caused by a cardiac arrest early morning after the J-Mart success party at his mansion in Paris. Despite seeming a natural death, the police have confirmed the cause of the cardiac arrest to be artificial, triggered by a drug that is locally known as Shizin in the Korean black market–”_

Taemin swiped his hand, the detected gesture causing the news channel to change. He twirled in his chair, resting back as he placed his feet on the curve of the desk.

_“Earlier today, Kim Sihoon, leader of the political party Reform– predicted as the strongest candidate for the upcoming presidential elections– was shot to death when he arrived at the convention center for the public conference announcing his candidacy. Suffering a shot straight to the head, he died right on the spot. There was a stampede around the entrance after his dead body fell out of the car when the door was opened. The police have begun investigating the murder and though there are no official details out, the CCTV footage and live cameras on site confirm that the shot was fired from the outside as a bullet hole in the roof of the car was spotted– which seems hard to believe considering Kim Sihoon’s car was first grade military bulletproof. Awaiting the post mortem reports–”_

Taemin clicked his fingers and the news switched off. The moment he had done so, a soft beep filled the room and he turned, finding one of his windows flashing. He straightened up, enlarging it and alphanumeric jargon began to stream down before his eyes. He studied it for a couple of minutes before he began typing on the hologram keyboard that was instantly projected upon his empty desk, having detected his fingers moving. It took him half an hour to run a decryption algorithm and the moment he was done, the words _Elysian_ filled his screen. 

He hummed, knowing he had a new assignment and let the decryption complete, resting back as he waited for the message to load. It took only a minute more and the message was before him, making him raise his brows as he read through it.

_Choi Minho. Accidental death._

Taemin stared at it before he finally whispered under his breath, “Fuck.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The _Elysian_ logo was spinning on many of his idle windows as he stared at a certain one in the middle, deep in thought. The remaining contents of his new assignment had strictly prohibited him from using any means that could be uncovered as a murder and not an accidental death. Elysian wanted this man dead– and rather uneventfully. Taemin hated not having some flair and having to make more effort than necessary. Causing an accident for a man protected in layers of security? It was easy, but it would take work. Strategizing, socializing and constantly wiping his traces. And oh yeah, being personally involved with the target. He blinked, finally focusing on what was playing in the tab open in the middle. 

_“Heir to CK Group, Choi Minho had become the youngest CEO in South Korea at 24, having started right at the bottom of his company at 18 as a clerk. He had worked up till a managerial position without disclosing his identity and was fired by the board for proposing ‘risky endeavors’ but returned the day after, revealing his identity and was appointed CEO by the Chairman– his father. His ‘risky endeavors’ included exchanging existing, fertile land under CK’s name with barren land in the countryside where he built a five-star hotel, a theme park, a shopping complex and a dedicated area where their company’s line of Augmented reality games could be played. Boasting of world-class cuisine, with Michelin star restaurants from a hundred countries and outlets of over 500 fashion brands in the shopping complex, it’s the ultimate paradise for foodies and shopaholics. The rides of the theme park draw inspiration from the video game franchises CK developed under their tech subsidiary, C-ware and are unique to only this place. This entire recreation area, titled aptly, CK’s Legacy, has remained South Korea’s #1 vacation spot and ranks in the top five travel destinations on many global lists. Having simultaneously and continuously benefitted both the farming community and the tourism of the country, Choi Minho has received many honors and has stayed the richest and most influential personality in Asia for the past 5 years.”_

_“Your success seems too perfect, at least that is what I have heard many say. What is the secret to your ‘perfect’ success, Mr. Choi?”_

_“Please, nothing is perfect in this world,”_ Minho’s voice infiltrated the space, as Taemin hummed softly, watching Minho’s interview on the screen, who was sitting one leg crossed over the other in an armchair, hair combed to the side neatly, wearing a grey, crisp suit and his smile charming as ever. _“All I can say is, if you want something, you will have to take the risks. Both the necessary and the unnecessary ones.”_

Taemin scoffed, getting up and walking towards one of his desks, beside which was a huge printer. He pulled out what it had dumped in the tray– an ID, a passport, a driving license– and all of them read _Lee Taemin_. “Fucking hate I have to use my real name for this.” He murmured to himself before he pocketed them all and returned to his screen, his fingers swiftly working on his screen, pushing _CK Legacy’s_ documentary somewhere behind as he dragged another window to the front. The screen flashed red, warning him of multiple security violations, which he countered patiently, clicking his tongue as he typed away on the screen’s keyboard, opening a command window and one by one, they disappeared until the screen flashed, _Access Granted._

He sighed before scouring the interface and selecting the database. He began a transfer and it was done roughly within two minutes.

_Database updated with employee information._

Taemin clicked on the entry. A digital ID card popped up with his information, the header reading _Arc Protection Services_. 

“Neat,” he whispered to himself proudly, before hitting _print_.

As his printer whirred, he made some more changes to the database and a dialog popped up when he was done. He smiled triumphantly as he read over the result of his efforts.

_Transfer success. Employee 1472 Lee Taemin assigned to client C5618, Choi Minho._

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Dressed in a plain black suit with the _Arc_ logo, blonde hair now dyed black and styled neatly to the side, Taemin walked into the lobby of CK HQ after having his ID scanned at the entrance and being frisked thoroughly. The receptionist stared at him for a few moments after he had announced his reason for the visit and had someone accompany him to the elevator.

He pressed on the earpiece in his ear as the elevator doors closed, the receptionist’s voice clear through the bug he had planted at her desk. 

_“Arc must be out of their mind–”_

_“Did you see those rings? The piercings? How the heck did he even become a bodyguard? Isn’t there a basic dressing etiquette they follow? Not to mention he has no body presence whatsoever– Mr. Choi is more built than that guy!”_

_“Yeah! And that pretty face– I mean, if looks could kill, then maybe he would’ve been of use.”_

_“Arc is so gonna lose their contract with us.”_

Taemin smiled as he watched the numbers in the LED increase. Oh, how much he _loved_ hearing people underestimate him. He hummed as he waited for the elevator to halt and when it did, there was someone waiting for him, ready to lead the way. The one who was leading him seemed like a security personnel as well, but his tie clip was unique, it had the CK logo. He was slightly shorter than the norm for the business requirements of being in security but he was dressed the part, with the correct gear, build and posture. Taemin scrutinized him from head to toe, colliding into him when they approached the door to what looked like Choi Minho’s office.

It was huge and well-furnished, the hues soft in contrast to the dark decor. There was a coat hanger and a closet adjacent to the entrance and another door that was ajar, which was probably the break room. Taemin could see a coffee machine and shelves full of assorted snacks and various teas along with crockery. The office was a couple of steps lower. It seemed like a posh drawing room, with a chandelier on the top, below which was an elegant sofa set complete with a coffee table and an electric fireplace. Past the sofas, was a luxurious desk, raised again by a couple of steps. Behind the desk, the entire wall was made of glass, providing a scenic view of the city.

“I want the files ready, please.” A deep, rich voice flitted the air and Taemin’s attention landed on its owner, turned away in his chair, speaking over the phone, a lit cigarette in his other hand. He gestured Taemin to sit without turning and the man who had led Taemin in, stood a couple of steps behind Taemin, in the proper stance. “Yes, that’s fine. I will have my schedule rearranged according to the conference.” The man in the chair finally turned, his large eyes widening in amusement when they settled on Taemin.

His hair was slightly shorter now and not as neatly combed as Taemin had seen in his recorded interview, nor as he had seen at the party. His parting was coming undone, yet did nothing to lessen his charm or authoritativeness. He was dressed in a soft-white turtleneck upon which he had thrown a beige blazer, yet he seemed every bit the CEO he was despite the semi-formal attire.

He smiled a little, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray before pulling a file closer, which Taemin guessed was his profile. 

“So, _Mr. Lee_ ,” Minho rested back in his chair, his eyes still on Taemin’s file, “You have four years of military grade training and have been with Arc for only two years, during which most of your tasks were temporary assignments… oh… your clientele is quite impressive despite that... but in comparison to the requirements I am looking for, your experience falls considerably short.” He closed the file shut, looking straight at Taemin, “I always hire men with at least five years of experience in the field.” He tapped the handrest of his chair with his fingers, “I believe your employer has made a mistake by sending a profile so far off my requisites, which I am willing to overlook. Please have your superior contact me. You may leave.”

Taemin had been listening, waiting for him to finish and when he finally had, he began, “I believe there hasn’t been any mistake. I am a substitute until the perfect candidate is available. I may be assigned to you only temporarily, but I can assure you that I am a good fit for Mr. Choi’s dynamic workflow and you will end up requesting my permanent engagement– even despite my profile not matching your requisites considerably.” He sat back in his chair, “I may prove it. Right here, right now.”

Minho tilted his head, his eyes gaining interest, “Go ahead.”

Taemin turned his gaze to the man standing behind him, “I would appreciate it if you attack Mr. Choi.”

The man blinked, his gaze unsettled, “What–”

“Do as he says, Jonghyun,” Minho spoke, keeping his eyes on Taemin, “Attack me.”

Jonghyun reluctantly obeyed and reached for his waist and it was right then that a sound of a gun cocking and decocking filled the room and Jonghyun found Taemin playing with a gun– he felt his holster– _his_ gun. He reached to the other side and again it was empty and he turned, finding Taemin smirking as he fished out another gun from under his jacket. Before Jonghyun could find any more weapons on his body, Taemin began to empty his coat pockets and placed a taser and a pellet pistol on Minho’s desk along with the previous two guns.

Jonghyun was glaring at Taemin, the confusion evident in his eyes, trying to pinpoint how and when Taemin had nicked him.

“You are well-prepared,” Taemin dusted his hands, “But more than preparation, a bodyguard’s job is to exercise precaution.”

“It’s not just weapons you need to take precautions against,” Jonghyun muttered, refusing to accept defeat as he walked towards Minho aggressively, but he lost balance when he was mere centimeters away from a wide-eyed Minho, having been hit _hard_ by a water bottle that had been placed on Minho’s desk. Taemin was on his feet and had pulled Jonghyun up, restraining him before he yanked the handcuffs at Jonghyun’s belt, cuffing him swiftly, leaving no gap for Jonghyun to fight back. He then led and pushed him into the chair he had been previously sitting in, and Minho rested his chin on his knuckles, pursing his lips in amusement.

“What do you think?” He asked Jonghyun, who glared at Taemin before he met Minho’s eyes, having quite a hard time saying what he was going to say next.

“I can now return to your father’s side.”

Minho turned to Taemin, raising his brows, “Guess you’re hired then, hopefully permanently,” He extended his hand for a shake, “Lee Taemin.”

Taemin shook it and when he was letting go, he felt the reluctance in Minho’s fingers, holding onto his hand a moment longer and he met his gaze, realizing that Minho had been waiting for him to make eye contact. His eyes were playful, implicit, and as he softly let Taemin’s hand slip out of his, Taemin knew his job was as good as done.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“It’s surprising Arc sent a guy after the hassle they went through with CK,” Jonghyun spoke as he showed Taemin around the building, “None of their employees wanted to work an unpredictable shift.”

Taemin stopped short at the word _unpredictable_ , thinking what it could possibly mean. There had been nothing in Arc’s database about the specific requirements demanded by Choi Minho, and hence Taemin had winged his resume. Judging from Jonghyun’s words, just five years of experience in the field was not the end of it. 

“Did you bring along your necessities? Make sure to get them next time.” Jonghyun continued, “Because sometimes you cannot go home and would have to work continuously, depending on Mr. Choi’s schedule… and it’s convenient to have some stuff stashed in the car’s trunk.”

“I appreciate the heads up.” Taemin answered, his brows wrinkling slightly as he thought over the new revelation.

“I know it is hard but not an impossible request,” Jonghyun continued to murmur as they reached the security admin where Jonghyun was having a CK ID card made for Taemin, “It’s not like you don’t get to go home at all. I hear some politicians and celebrities ask for live-in bodyguards. 24x7 service. It’s easier to request that, but Mr. Choi needs his privacy. All we want is someone who can be available as and when needed... not all the time.”

“At least in the former case you _know_ you won’t be having a life,” Taemin muttered under his breath and Jonghyun looked up, not having caught his words clearly, “Said something?”

“Be rest assured.” Taemin smiled immediately, “All of my time belongs to Mr. Choi from now on.”

“We’ll see how much of that is true.” Jonghyun handed Taemin his new ID, “Now, you’ll have to be in sync with his PA because you’ll be the first one Mr. Choi sees in the morning and the last before he calls it a day. She won’t be cleared to enter every place he goes to, so you might have to take over there. But she’s on maternity leave now, so you'll be taking over completely. Mr. Choi won’t be getting a substitute PA because they need to be trained on the job first and the new dynamic of it would disturb a lot of things… so it’s convenient for _you_ to take care of it instead. Won’t hurt to take over a few little things when you’ll be anyway with Mr. Choi all the time.”

Taemin finished securing the ID to the lanyard he picked out from the desk and Jonghyun continued, “So, first, you’ll be driving him to all of his appointments and taking care of his immediate needs. He may ask you to do anything and everything, so mentally prepare yourself for requests ranging from a simple cup of tea to getting his files organized before a meeting. Go over his medical history so you know how to take care of his minor ailments and allergies. He keeps all kinds of things in his break room, but he drinks only herbal tea– with a teaspoon of honey– and be sure to always have energy drinks on you when you are out of the office with him. You’ll have to carry some basic things for him since he prefers to be hands-free. Always dressing in suits is a no. You’ll have to dress according to his appointments or according to what he dresses in. If you don’t know Japanese, start learning since he visits his subsidiaries in Japan frequently...”

“Hoka ni nanika, Jonghyun-san*?” Taemin asked, amused at how Jonghyun was mentally thinking of more stuff to drill him with.

_(*Anything else, Jonghyun-san?)_

“Good… luck,” Jonghyun muttered, unsettled by the fact that Taemin already knew Japanese and was still in high spirits about everything. He pushed a walkie talkie into his chest, “He goes through bodyguards like clothes.”

Taemin clipped the device to his belt as he followed Jonghyun back to Minho’s office, sighing as he muttered, “Bastard is fucking high maintenance, huh.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


A cup of herbal tea was steaming at Minho’s side as he read over the pile of files on his desk and made calls as he went through the contents. He finally took a break and rested back, closing his eyes for a while before he opened them, finding Taemin sitting on the sofa, his feet propped on the coffee table as he browsed through his phone.

“Seems like Jonghyun’s drilling had no effect on you,” Minho got up from his chair and stepped down, “Because every bodyguard that went through him would be living on his nerves.”

“Hmm, he said you go through bodyguards like clothes,” He finally looked up from his phone, “I suspect that Mr. Kim is the reason your bodyguards change like your clothes.” He whispered distastefully, “It’s _him_ with a problem.”

Minho chuckled at his expression. The air grew quiet again and Minho broke the silence after a few moments, “You look good in that hair.”

“Well, thank you,” Taemin smirked, his eyes now back on his phone, “I hope it’s not a distraction for you, though.”

Minho stepped ahead and sat beside him, noticing that Taemin had been playing that annoying flappy bird game, “It’s up to you,” He whispered, “If you wanna be my bodyguard or a distraction.”

“Maybe… the problem _is_ you,” Taemin said, not even flinching at how close Minho was, “Do you flirt with all your bodyguards?”

Minho put some distance between them by leaning against the sofa hand rest, his smile playful, “Only the ones who flirt with me first.” 

“I bet that is every bodyguard, then.”

“Oh, if I told you how many guys in total have flirted with me, you’d be quite shocked.”

“Why Arc though?” Taemin suddenly asked and Minho blinked, understanding his trail of thought despite the question being so sudden and off track. “Mr. Kim seems to be part of CK’s internal security and he is capable to say the least. Why hire a bodyguard from outside when your own company’s got the resources?”

“He’s just a part of my father’s private guard. They have been permanently outsourced from another organization just like Arc.” Minho answered him goodnaturedly, “They aren’t really flexible to my schedule, considering they work for a retired-businessman turned politician. As for your question… _why Arc_ … it’s not publicly known but I happen to own shares in that company.”

“Hmm… not so interesting.”

Minho chuckled, getting comfortable in his spot, “Please bring me my tea? I feel lazy.”

Taemin hit pause on his game, before getting up, “Sure, Mr. Choi.” He approached the desk, sighing as he glanced at the tea, now lukewarm. If only he just had to drop a pill or tilt something into this concoction– his job would have been done. Sure, this assignment was easy but he was not very patient as he deduced how much more time he’d be stuck pleasing this man before he could finally get the chance to kill him. He sighed as he picked the tray up, cursing under his breath.

_“Fuck you, Elysian.”_


	2. Slippery Slope

Back at the apartment Taemin had rented for his _Arc bodyguard_ cover, he flopped down on the couch after showering and changing into something comfortable. He picked up his tablet from the coffee table as he pulled his legs up. The apartment was furnished and he’d bought new sheets and some clothes on his way back. He stabbed a fork into the pasta he had picked up and chewed on the bite as he swiped through his tab. The day had been uneventful, Taemin only had to loiter around in Minho’s cabin all day as the man was behind on a lot of paperwork. 

Although, whenever Minho took little-five-minute breaks, he would learn a bit more about his _target_. Like the fact that Jonghyun had completely made up the whole shit about doubling as Minho’s PA. Although Minho's PA indeed was on maternity leave, she was working partial hours from home and Minho didn’t quite need Taemin to take care of anything work-related. Jonghyun always pranked the bodyguards by exaggerating their workload and making unnecessary strict rules in some way or the other. But Minho did say that he’d appreciate it if Taemin would run a few errands for him if he didn’t mind. Taemin agreed despite the thought of _‘running errands’_ annoying the hell out of him. He had driven him to his house around 8, which was considerably early according to what Jonghyun had said before handing him the keys. 

Minho’s home was actually that tall ass hotel in the most expensive and tourist-ridden neighborhood of the city, aptly named, _Hotel Astral_.

_\- “You live in a hotel?”_

_“Yes, it’s convenient. Also, I happen to own it.”_

When Taemin escorted him up to the presidential suite, he agreed it was convenient. The place was equipped with a ton of crazy luxuries, not to mention the security. Entry was based on a biometric system for all non-CK personnel and not only the inside but also the perimeter was crawling with Arc bodyguards.

_“They change shifts every 8 hours. I’d have to get used to at least two– sometimes three different– men following me around. I prefer to have a stable atmosphere, at the least… and that is why I asked for someone who’d be ready to take up thrice the amount of work.”_ Minho had answered the question Taemin hadn’t asked after they’d gotten into the elevator, noticing his gaze lingering a few moments on the Arc branded suits. _“But Arc has some protocols written in stone, they can’t force an employee into such a mercurial work situation and no employee is ready to work according to my uncompromising schedule. A few have tried, but I always end up having Jonghyun shortly after.”_

_“I can assure you,”_ Taemin had answered, _“I’d be the last bodyguard you go through.” -_

  
  


And Minho had smiled so kindly, entirely unaware _why_ Taemin would be the last he’ll go through. Ah, Taemin loved watching his prey be hunted without even knowing they were being hunted. He surely was going to enjoy the hunt this time, because he would dominate Minho in the end… and Minho’s face would be priceless when he’d realize how every little thing, every little word had led him to his death. Yes, he was going to make sure Minho would know the cause of his death. The pleasure of this kill was going to be his. _All his_. Even Elysian wanted it that way. _If only they knew. What a shame._

He was in quite a good mood, aided by the fact that Minho’s Audi was parked in Taemin’s parking lot, as a result of his boss’ generous offer of taking the car home because it would save time when he comes back in the morning. It was a sweet ride and Taemin was satiated for the time being. At least his new assignment came with perks.

He went through Arc’s database again, rechecking if he could find anything he was better off knowing about because Minho’s hotel was entirely guarded by Arc’s men. They had not acted familiar, but they had not suspected him either when he had walked inside with Minho and escorted him up to the door of the suite. Strings for high-class clients were pulled by the higher-ups and it was a matter of time before someone in Arc’s management noticed the anomaly in their system because the guards on Minho’s house changed shift wise. Someone or the other will eventually suspect him. _Now_ , he was racing against time. Had he been the sole representative of Arc, he would’ve tricked Minho longer and taken as much time as he needed. But now he’d have to find a balance between time and efficacy– he’d have to make sure Choi Minho gets buried before he does. 

He bit his lip. He hadn’t felt this thrill for quite some time now. He always used unique and intricate ways of killing his targets to keep himself entertained, it also helped when the police could not relate one murder to another when the M.O.’s were so different. Killing Choi Minho was certainly not going to be anything unique or specifically intricate and he hated getting too close to his targets but it was certainly becoming an enjoyable task, to say the least.

He switched to his CK provided email account, clicking on the protected folder consisting of all information on his new boss. He sighed as he watched files unzip and culminate one after the other after he had typed the password (Choi Minho’s D.O.B). As he watched them pile up, he was sure that Jonghyun was intent on making his life hell. _“Drinks ranked in order of Mr. Choi’s preference and mood.”_ Taemin read out one doc’s title. “His _mood_? Fuck you, man.” He whispered with annoyance, imagining the smug smile Jonghyun would be wearing thinking of when Taemin would open these emails. He was sure Jonghyun would go as far as to _quiz_ him on how much he would have memorized. He’d have plenty of time to do that as he was going to be tagging along a couple of days more to make sure Taemin ‘settles’ in his new job. 

“Fuck this,” He switched to Minho’s schedule again, finding that he had a meeting at 10 A.M but had asked Taemin to report at 6 A.M., instead. His usual reporting time was going to be 6 A.M., unless specified, was what Jonghyun had said as he had run over Minho’s immediate schedule. He glanced at the clock hung above the fireplace. Almost midnight. He got up, throwing the tab on the side, deciding to hit the bed. 

He walked away but retraced his steps a few moments later, grabbing his tab. He sighed as he flicked it open as he walked to his bedroom. _Challenge accepted, you little shit._

* * *

  
  
  


“So, you’re gonna run with me in a suit?” Minho smiled in amusement as he zipped his tracksuit up, eying Taemin from head to toe, standing at his door in stance, dressed neatly in the black Arc suit, his hair tamed into a parting as well.

Taemin forced his lips into a smile, tearing his eyes away from how Minho’s uncombed hair softly covered his forehead and entirely changed his look, “I wouldn’t mind. Dressing appropriately for your meetings today was more important.”

“Oh, you could’ve just changed into a suit here before we leave,” Minho just shrugged as he stuffed his feet into his running shoes before putting on a cap, pushing his little fringe behind into the cap as he did so.

“Thank you, Sir. I will certainly do that next time.” Taemin said, shifting to the side to give Minho some way.

_Who the fuck goes jogging at this ungodly hour,_ Taemin grumbled to himself as he got into the elevator with Minho, _it’s still fucking dark outside._

“C’mon now, keep up,” Minho said as he started jogging and Taemin sighed as he followed, his eyes scouring the perimeter of Arc men around the hotel. A few of them had begun to follow, maintaining enough distance. Minho was uncaring of the slight invasion of his privacy, he was humming a tune softly and somehow, his entire presence was strikingly active against the dull weather. 

_They really are all kinds of psychos in this world._ Taemin matched Minho’s pace, his smile sickly sweet when he was met with Minho’s airy one. _Fuck, wish I could just stab him right about now._

“You must like exercising.” Minho commented, his voice slightly shaky.

“Oh, yes.” Taemin answered, “I love it to _death_.”

“That much?” Minho raised his brows, “You must be following your own regime at home since it’s an occupational necessity, but instead, how about you join me at my gym in the evenings? Since you’ll be driving me to and fro anyways.”

“Sounds good.” Taemin answered through gritted teeth. _Guess it’s death by dumbells, then._

* * *

  
  


Taemin had grabbed breakfast from the company’s cafeteria, remembering his boss’ _preference_ of sandwiches from one of the files from his emails. He had hardly gotten halfway through that mountain of data despite staying up till 3 A.M. The files were locked, like the levels of a game, and the next one wouldn’t open until you have read through the previous one. So, Taemin had to go through a lot of jargon and there was still quite a bit more left until he could reach the file on Choi Minho’s medical history. Arranging the files with such a shitty lock program, Jonghyun either wanted him to go through everything or just wanted him to give up in the first couple of files. True, Taemin could have run his own cheat code to counter Jonghyun’s software prank, but the files were latched to a shared database. It would take quite a while to erase his code’s digital footprints whereas the breach would be noticed within seconds and Taemin couldn’t risk that.

Taemin could leave Minho alone briefly if he was within the company or at any other protected location, so Minho had gone ahead to his office while Taemin grabbed breakfast. He decided to make coffee upstairs himself and got into the elevator, thinking over the events of the morning. Minho had been sneezing like crazy when he’d gotten in the backseat and Taemin was wondering exactly what had gotten the man in this state. Maybe he could use it to his advantage. He glanced at his phone. Choi Minho’s medical history was still fucking twenty files away.

“Oh, great!” Minho looked up from his paperwork on finding Taemin enter and unpack his sandwich swiftly, “I usually can eat everything but today I was seriously in the mood for some falafel.”

“Bon appetit.” Taemin pushed the falafel sandwich towards Minho and sat in the chair, beginning to unwrap his own. He’d got the same thing for himself, curious why this stuff was #1 on his boss’ preference list.

“Do you make good coffee?” Minho asked in between his bites and Taemin hummed, “I make it sweet.”

“Make me one then.”

“What about the strictly-herbal-tea lesson I got from your nanny yesterday?”

“Just a part of the appearance I keep up in front of my father’s spy.” Minho shrugged, “I fell ill once because I kinda overdosed on coffee and my old man’s keeping a tab on it so… hence the herbal tea.”

“Hmm,” Taemin smiled, intrigued, “What else is part of that appearance?”

Minho rested back in his chair, smirking, “How about you try guessing?”

“Sorry for intruding on your meal–” Jonghyun’s voice followed the sound of the door opening, “But your father is attending this meeting, it’s best if we leave early.”

Minho wiped his hands off with a napkin as he chewed the last of his sandwich, “Yes it is.” He got up and as he passed Taemin he said, “Taemin, please bring my herbal tea in an insulated mug?” 

Jonghyun stepped out when he found Minho nearing the door and before Minho stepped out behind him, he turned and mouthed, _“Coffee.”_

Taemin chuckled, watching him step out and it hit him the next moment. Something he had cautioned himself against. His smile faded and he cursed under his breath. He had forgotten his original reason for being totally annoyed about this assignment. This assignment was a slippery slope. “Fuck,” He whispered to himself, “I forgot he’s a goddamn charmer.”

* * *

  
  
  


_C-ware_ headquarters weren’t fancy at all from the outside but the moment Taemin had stepped in behind Minho, he knew this was no ordinary office. It seemed more like an arcade– it was certainly decked like that. The walls, the decor, the colors– everything was derived from CK’s successful video game franchise _Legacy_. The whole office seemed like scenes from the various levels of the games. Taemin even recognized a few from the old Xbox versions he had played when they had first come out. 

He stepped into the elevator with Minho and Jonghyun, and they halted on the 7th floor. The level was ridden with security personnel, which Taemin guessed belonged to the other important people attending the meeting. He saw a small group of men dressed like Jonghyun. Minho’s father had already arrived.

“You can wait outside since my dad’s men will be inside,” Minho whispered as he handed Taemin the insulated mug, “Take a breather,” He leant closer, his lips a mere centimeter from his ear, “And take care of the evidence.” He straightened up, smiling innocently, “Hmm?”

“Yes, Sir.” Taemin answered, trying to take his mind off his warm, ticklish ear.

After Minho had entered the meeting room, Taemin found the break room, washed the insulated mug and put it in the little backpack he was wearing that carried all the things Jonghyun had named Minho would need. He stood out, he looked ridiculous, he hated it because he looked more like a fresher waiting for a job interview than a bodyguard and he swore he heard some other bodyguards mock him. _Whatever, fuck it._

He began to stroll the corridors, reading over the files on his phone while he casually looked out the tinted windows from time to time. He stopped short suddenly when he noticed something odd in the surroundings of the building. He locked his phone screen before he made the Ray Bans tucked over his head, fall back over his eyes. He adjusted them before pressing over the sensor on the side, switching on advanced vision mode. 

“Great.” He sighed, ruffling his hair, undoing his parting and making the overgrown fringe fall onto his forehead. There was a sound of a door being opened and shut loudly the next moment and he turned, finding his boss storming out, followed by Jonghyun. Minho looked totally pissed off but he didn’t let it get into his voice when he told Taemin that they were leaving.

Once in the elevator, Jonghyun broke the fuming silence, “You cannot walk out of such a–”

“It’s my company I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He took a sharp breath, “But _oh yeah_ , I can’t fucking rename it. I founded the bloody thing, but who gets to decide what it’s called? I should’ve never sold any shares to that conniving fucker.”

Taemin raised his brows in amusement at the angry, foul words spewing out of Minho’s mouth. It was certainly intriguing because he had the politest mouth. His tone could be conceited but he never cursed so fervently, at least of what Taemin had observed.

Once they were at the entrance and waiting for the valet to bring the car up front, Taemin scoured the surroundings again, reluctantly tuning out Minho’s heated ranting. A couple of minutes later, Minho’s Audi halted right in the front. The pavement was wider in front of them, it would take roughly 15 seconds– about 6-7 steps– to get to the car and Minho was about to step out from the sheltered area towards the car but Taemin’s voice halted him.

“Apologies in advance, Sir.”

“Huh–”

Taemin took a step behind and kicked Minho’s arse, sending him towards the car, and the moment Minho had left that sheltered area, bullets came raining at them, but Minho had missed them all, having collided into the car and falling down on his arse within mere five seconds. Taemin stepped out quickly, dodging a few bullets as he pulled the door open, shouting over the loud sound of bullets, “I’m covering you! Get in!” Minho was quick and got in despite being in considerable pain from the fall, his eyes widening as Taemin lurched in force taking the brunt of the bullets as he covered the door. He slammed the door shut before he took out his pistol and aimed two shots, after which the continuous pelting of bullets halted. Jonghyun joined him, breathless as he had been firing at the source as well.

Taemin turned towards him, “The parking lot in that complex,” He pointed with his thumb behind his back, “I shot his legs, he cannot get away.”

Jonghyun nodded, a little disturbed by how Taemin could so casually relay his deed like that, more so by the fact that everything had happened so fast and whatever Taemin had done had been _faster_. “I’ll handle the situation,” He said, “Get Mr. Choi to safety.”

Taemin quickly got into the driver's seat and stepped on the gas, glancing over at the little bewildered wrinkle between Minho’s brows from the rearview mirror as he drove them a good distance away from the scene.

“Are you alright, Mr. Choi? Should I turn towards the hospital?” Taemin asked at the next red light and Minho broke from his daze, meeting his gaze through the rearview mirror, “I’m absolutely fine, thanks to you.” He grew worried all of a sudden, “But what about you? Are you okay? How the fuck are you even driving when you got hit by bullets?!”

“Bulletproof vest,” Taemin answered, holding back his laughter.

Minho closed his eyes for a second, sighing as he realized he’d asked a dumb question, “Yeah, sorry. That was obvious.”

“I’m sorry I had to kick you,” Taemin began, “The shooter was long range and was vouching for the time window in which you’d walk to your car to shoot you. He was not exactly aiming for you but your _walk pattern_ so I did what I did to change it up a bit.”

“And you saved me! I don’t care what you do to do that.” He paused, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, “But it hurts quite a lot. Jonghyun was telling me the other day that you’d be a pain in the ass– what I didn’t count on was the possibility of it being _literally_.”

Taemin laughed, “Mr. Kim has judged me well.”

Minho sat up, “So you're telling me you can be a pain in the ass, even figuratively?”

“Hmm, I have a feeling you will like me regardless.”

Minho rested back, a little smile on his face as he closed his eyes, whispering, “It’s not just Jonghyun who judges people well.”

  
Silence reigned in the car as Taemin just stared at Minho’s handsome, peaceful features, breaking away only when someone behind honked at him. He immediately took the turn, a little turbulence in his eyes as he muttered to himself, _slippery slope_.


	3. The Bloody Distraction

The rest of the day, Minho was cooped up in his office, his schedule was changed so he wouldn’t have to get around much. It was obvious he’d have to lay low to avoid further incidents and the nosy media after nearly escaping assassination. The news had been faintly running in his cabin, which Minho was aptly ignoring as he did his work while Taemin watched it, changing channels so he could watch every news channel cover it. It surely was a hot topic considering how the whole atmosphere at the company had changed. The matter of the shooting was trending everywhere, even in foreign social media. Many other channels had started even making up conspiracy theories and trying to make assumptions about who was behind the assassination attempt. 

_The assassination attempt on CEO Choi of CK has fortunately left no one injured due to the onsite security’s prompt measures of securing the civilians and the attack being concentrated solely on CEO Choi, who was swiftly covered by his bodyguard. Despite everyone scathing through, the incident has shocked the nation. With such a dangerous shooting happening in broad daylight and growing gun violence in general, is anyone safe in our country?_

Taemin changed the channel.

_-it must be noted that the assassination attempts began after CK’s chairman and Minho’s father, Choi Kangho stepped into politics earlier this year. The shooting is similar to the most recent assassination of the political leader of Reform, Kang Sihoon–_

“Not similar at all.” Taemin rolled his eyes as he changed the channel again. He had gone through all media sources on both the TV and the internet and though there had been footage of him securing Minho into the car, it was blurry. His overgrown hair and his Raybans obscured his identity further, so he did not have to clean much up after today’s incident. But if Choi Minho remained a target of assassination from other sources as well, his job was just going to get harder. He was so tempted to just let those shots hit Minho, but, _oh well_ , then it wouldn’t count as an accident, would it? He sighed. Not only did he have to keep saving this guy’s ass until he could finally orchestrate the perfect accident to kill him, he also had to come up with a foolproof plan that would not classify as an assassination in the long run, which anything could since Minho was now a publicly known target.

_–CK has many enemies, even within their own organization. There has always been tension between Choi Minho and Lee Jinki, newly appointed CEO of C-ware, the company founded by young Choi but now owned by Lee because of him being a shareholder by 53%. With C-ware behind the franchise of Legacy that has expanded as a base for the country’s biggest tourist attraction, the rift between the two could cost CK the loss of their entire business empire now that the patent to the video game franchise Legacy lies in the hands of Lee Jinki. Being cousins, this tension seems nothing but a temporary difference of opinion, but when there is a colossal business empire involved, even blood is water._

Taemin had noticed someone enter Minho’s cabin and the said person was standing right behind the sofa, watching the TV as well. Taemin had recognized who it was through the faint reflection he had caught on the TV screen.

“These reporters are so smart, don’t you think so, cousin?”

“Jinki.” Minho looked up from his files, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Just checking up on you,” Jinki walked around the cabin, his eyes settling on Taemin and he raised his brows in interest before taking a seat on the adjacent sofa, “Since you escaped death by only a few inches.”

“Thanks to my bodyguard.” Minho got back to his files and Jinki turned his gaze to the news Taemin had been watching. The shooting that had been caught live was being broadcast with obvious censoring over and over again.

“How dumb.” Jinki sighed, “I am pretty sure the one who wants you dead is no miser so why take such a dumb approach? If it were me, I’d have caused an accident.”

Taemin paid him no attention but stiffened at how casually he was speaking those words.

“And get a professional to do it. By infiltrating your den, maybe. There are quite a few famed underworld organizations that have men adept for such tasks.”

Taemin finally looked at him and found Jinki’s gaze still on him. He looked back to the TV, thrown off and discomforted by his words and his unreadable eyes.

“Want some coffee?” Minho had asked, entirely ignoring what Jinki had said.

“I do but I can't stay for some. I was just dropping by on my way to a meeting. I’m kind of running late.” He got up, putting his hands in his pockets, “Let’s have dinner together sometime this month.”

“Sure.” 

“Good work,” Jinki spoke, this time _actually_ addressing Taemin, his eyes shifting to Taemin’s ID card, “Lee Taemin. My cousin owes you his life.” He didn’t wait for a response and left.

“How about we call it a night?” Minho’s voice came and Taemin broke from the suspicions brewing in his mind, straightening up from the sofa, glancing at his watch before grabbing his backpack. He followed Minho out, noticing how he rolled his shoulders and seemed exhausted despite not having worked his usual hours. It was only 6.P.M. 

When they got in the car, Minho got into the passenger seat and slumped into it, closing his eyes as Taemin began to drive.

“Second day on the job and you already have bullet holes in your suit.” Minho softly commented, eyes still closed when Taemin had merged onto the highway.

“Not enough bullet holes to make me resign from the job.” Taemin answered and Minho chuckled, “You really are something.”

* * *

  
  


Taemin checked the security around the hotel and was checking the windows and just about any gap in Minho’s suite. It almost felt like he was hiding and securing his prey so that other predators wouldn’t get to him before he could. He was almost done and that was when Minho came out of the shower, dressed in nothing but grey sleep pants, drying his hair with a small towel. Taemin passed him by to check on the bathroom as well and when he came out, Minho had put on a sweatshirt and was sitting at his minibar, on one of the high stools, pouring himself some wine.

“Do you like wine?” He asked when he noticed Taemin approaching.

“I do but I’ll have to pass since I’ll be driving back home,” Taemin answered, grabbing his blazer from the couch.

“C’mon, just stay the night. I’ll get a room arranged for you.” Minho said, taking a nice long sip from his glass, “I even ordered dinner for two.”

“That was quick,” Taemin sat on the stool beside him, “Thanks, I’ll stay for dinner then.” Minho began to pour him a glass, “Not the wine.” Minho pouted before he merged the contents of Taemin’s glass into his own.

The bell rang and Minho got it, taking the two plates from the steward’s tray and excused him before heading back to the minibar and setting their dinner on the counter. He took a swig of wine after he handed Taemin the cutlery and gestured to him to begin.

They ate quietly and when Taemin was about to take his last bite, Minho suddenly spoke, “You’re smitten by me aren’t you?” He swirled his wine in his glass and Taemin stopped short at how blunt he was, “It can’t really be a coincidence, can it? You turning up for an interview at my company just two weeks after we met in Paris? I’d have preferred waking up to you still in bed with me or at least to a phone number sitting on the side table, but I guess, this works too.” He set his glass down, “And before you argue– even if it’s a coincidence, I went out of the way and hired you– when I asked you to leave that was just me playing hard to get– the fact is I was going to hire you even if Jonghyun would’ve handed your ass to you– although you did turn out to be a good bodyguard– but that’s not the focus– what I mean is…”

Taemin smiled in amusement, he remembered this guy got a bit chatty and hell lot frank, the filter between his mind and tongue was a bit more permeable when he had alcohol in his system, “What you mean is?”

“I’m smitten by you.”

“I would be lying if I say I wasn’t aware of it,” Taemin smiled slightly, “And how cunning of you, you really just put it out there so I can’t act oblivious anymore.”

“So are you?” Minho asked softly, almost bashfully, “Smitten by me too?”

Taemin smiled, getting up and buttoning his suit coat, “I appreciate the confession, Mr. Choi, but as your bodyguard, I have to follow certain protocols– protocols that unfortunately include not getting personally involved with the client.”

“Aw c’mon! Way to ruin the moment!” Minho whined, “And was there really such a clause in the contract?” 

Taemin just shrugged and began to take his leave.

“Oh well, guess I bought Arc shares for this very day. As the highest shareholder of Arc, your contract doesn’t have that shitty clause anymore.”

Taemin turned, laughing, “Mr. Choi, that’s not how it works. First of all, you shouldn’t be drunk.”

“C’mon, Taemin, be my distraction, just for tonight?”

Taemin retraced his steps, “ _Define_ distraction.”

When Taemin was close enough, Minho grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his arms, locking him between his thighs, his arms around his waist, their lips a mere centimeter apart as he whispered, “How about _you_ define it?”

Taemin stared at his parted lips, at how feverish his gaze was. “Fuck it.” He muttered and Minho smiled in victory, lurching back in the force Taemin had kissed him with.

* * *

“Okay– woah!” Jonghyun froze the moment he had entered Minho’s bedroom, blinking away the sight he had caught the first thing in the morning. Taemin’s hands tied by a tie and hooked on Minho’s neck, another necktie blindfolding him, his hair drenched and sticking to his forehead as he fisted the back of Minho’s collar, Minho hovering above him, fucking him senseless. 

“What the _heck_ , Choi Minho!” Jonghyun turned around and stepped back, almost tripping over the fallen, moist towels and stepped out into the living room, only to step back and slam the bedroom door shut when he heard Taemin’s lewd moaning.

His eyes scanned the place and he noticed what he hadn’t in his hurry– clothes littered in a trail, one of them being Taemin’s blazer full of bullet holes, out of many other suggestive evidence. “Dammit, they’ve been at it since last night?!” He turned to the door and shouted, “It’s fucking 11 in the morning! You missed a meeting!”

He was being totally ignored so he just did what he could in the meantime. He cleaned up here and there so their hotel’s employees wouldn’t get any scoop from the obviously disheveled and littered suite and he ordered in some breakfast before making some calls and rearranging Minho’s schedule. He was cursing incoherently as he first searched for disposable gloves, and then as he picked up the two empty bottles of strawberry flavored edible lube littered on the carpet. He had cleaned up after Minho many times but this was indeed too much, he was half expecting to find fallen condoms here and there, but to his relief the two had had the decency to at least dump that into the nearby bin. 

When done with his superficial cleaning, he was almost going to sit on the couch but he refrained, thinking that was probably the _crime scene_ , considering he had found the first bottle of lube right beside it. He shifted to the other couch set near the kitchen after he had picked up the pile of clothes and as he checked the pockets and dropped them into the spare laundry basket he had dragged out from the store room, he saw the pile contained Minho’s pajamas and his mind automatically did a flashback to that scene he had witnessed. Minho was not in pajamas, but half-dressed in a suit and his last night’s clothes had been littered here so that meant he had dressed for work but– 

“Goodness. There is something called _self-control–_ ”

“Great! You ordered breakfast, I’m starving.” It was Minho who had come out, having pulled on his suit again, his red tie being the one that had blindfolded Taemin. He fixed it and set his moist hair to the side with a hairbrush lying on the kitchen counter before uncovering the plate of Belgian waffles.

Taemin had followed him out, his cheeks still flushed as he tucked in his– _Minho’s_ – shirt into his pants before untying the tie that was still dangling from one of his wrists and putting it on swiftly around his neck instead. He ran his fingers through his hair but they still fell back over his eyes. It seemed like a haircut was long overdue– which Jonghyun had noticed before in spite of Taemin setting them neatly with gel previously once. Despite seeming neat, there were certain protocols on personal grooming that had to be followed as well– and today was the day he would have commented on the piercings and the overgrown fringe but he kept quiet because _that_ was certainly no longer the pressing matter. He followed Taemin’s languid steps leading to Minho’s side who was plating waffles for Taemin and pouring syrup over them for him and Jonghyun just watched both of them standing so close, Minho breaking the waffle into bite-sized pieces for Taemin.

“You’re aware that this is a breach of contract right?”

“I changed it before I did anything.”

“It doesn’t work that way–”

“Who decides that?” Minho turned around, chewing, “I think I get to decide just about everything when I practically own Arc?”

Jonghyun turned his glare to Taemin, “At least _you_ should have stopped him.”

“Hmm,” Taemin took his plate and dropped on the couch opposite Jonghyun, “I’m not his boss.”

“But he is _your_ boss!”

“Exactly. How can I go against him?”

Jonghyun opened and closed his mouth before he got up, “Okay, I’m out.” He walked to Minho and smacked a file in his chest, “From what I saw yesterday, you don’t really need me anymore.”

Minho smirked, “Good, you saved me some breath.”

Jonghyun headed towards the door, “I saved mine, not yours.” He called out, “Just wait until your father finds out you’re fucking your bodyguards!”

“ _Bodyguards_?” Taemin asked, raising his brows in question.

“Bodyguard,” Minho answered, heading towards him, his smile almost playful and Taemin extended his foot on seeing him get closer and pressed it against Minho’s crotch, keeping him at bay.

“Time’s up on being your distraction, Mr. Choi.”

“Depends on _how_ you define distraction.”

Taemin yielded to those doe eyes, and dropped his foot, letting Minho take those two steps forward to lean and kiss him. In no time it was Minho on the couch and Taemin straddling him, his hands in his hair. When they broke for a short moment, Taemin defined it in his mind. _You_ , he caught his lips again, _You are the bloody distraction, Choi Minho._

* * *

  
  


When Taemin brought the car out front, he found Minho sniffling as he got into the passenger seat, almost restraining the oncoming sneeze, only to fail miserably as he sneezed thrice in a row in his kerchief before rolling the window open to let some air in. He took a deep breath when his sneezing fit calmed and rested back, tired already as he lazily grabbed some sanitizer from the bottle stuck to the dashboard.

His phone rang which he connected to the car’s Bluetooth before rolling the window up.

_“Mr. Choi,”_ Jonghyun’s voice resonated in that small space, _“The shooter we apprehended yesterday bit off some hidden pill stuck in one of his buttons and committed suicide before the police could question him.”_

“That’s tragic,” Minho sighed, “Did the police find anything else?”

_“His guns are from the black market, so untraceable. He had nothing on him. No ID, no cash, nothing. His facial features aren’t matching in any database as well.”_

“Got it. Get back to me when you find anything more.”

_“Sure,”_ Jonghyun hung up.

Taemin let the noise in the line totally dissipate before he asked, “Do you suspect anyone?”

“The opposition to my father’s party?” Minho answered, pouting as he pondered, “At least that’s what the news says.”

Taemin hummed, “What about your cousin, Lee Jinki?”

“Oh,” Minho raised his brows, “It’s because of what he said yesterday, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Taemin answered, “I would be lying if I said I do not suspect him.” He paused for a moment, “You founded C-ware but what made it successful is _Legacy_ , which I am assuming, is your cousin’s brainchild. He’s the one with the master’s degree in computer science… and his thesis was very similar to the first version of Legacy that was released.”

Minho nodded, slightly impressed, “Yep, you’re right.”

“And he now owns 53% of C-ware,” Taemin continued, “Courtesy of _you_ , who sold some of your shares to him. But correct me if I am wrong, C-ware is classified as a subsidiary of CK and the theme park is not under C-ware, but directly under CK, hence, giving zero ownership of the theme park to neither C-ware nor Lee Jinki. You own it solely.”

“Bull’s eye.” Minho tilted his head, smirking as he affirmed it.

“Hmm,” Taemin hummed thoughtfully, “Wouldn’t you be pissed off if someone makes such a large scale profit off your creation and doesn’t give you a penny?”

“Damn pissed.” Minho laughed, “And my dear cousin is just one among the plenty I have pissed off in this industry. None of them have the guts to get me killed though, be rest assured.”

“Your overconfidence is enough to get you killed, _be rest assured_.”

Minho chuckled, “Now you know what to protect me against the most.”

Taemin sighed, “I feel underpaid.”

“How about I give you blank cheques on payday?”

“Hmm, you’ll have nothing left then."

“I’ll have you.” Minho replied, “And you’ll have all my money. It’s a win-win situation.”

_It will be_ , Taemin hummed a wicked tune, unable to repress his mirth, _When I kill you_.

* * *

  
  
  


When Taemin entered CK Headquarters behind Minho, his lips immediately tugged into a little arrogant smile on reading the changed atmosphere. The bug he had planted at the reception was filled with all kinds of chatter the moment Minho and he had entered the elevator. 

_“Was it really him covering Mr. Choi from the bullets on the news?”_

_“He was so fast right? He took so many bullets too.”_

_“Mr. Choi wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him.”_

_“I totally misjudged him. But seriously, this is unfair! How can he be so hot **and** capable–”_

He whistled to himself softly and Minho turned around, amused, finding Taemin’s lips curved up delectably, “Was I really that good in bed?” He asked in a whisper.

Taemin just blinked, his smile now getting formally sweet, “Hate to break it you, Mr. Choi, but not everything is about you.”

“Ouch.” Minho chuckled, feigning being offended, “You just burst my bubble.”

“Well, I’m just protecting you,” Taemin stepped out and held the elevator for him, “From your worst enemy.”

Minho laughed, stepping out, “Gosh, does that mean you are gonna roast me at every chance you get?”

Taemin smirked. “ _Every_.”

* * *

Taemin yawned as he watched the majestic city view, leaning against the back of Minho’s chair, as Minho went through documents on his system, staring at his monitor quite irately once in a while which led him to make calls, asking for things to be set right. He had grumbled quite a bit before he had started work because Jonghyun had canceled everything that would require him to step out of this building and that meant he only had paperwork and video conferences on his schedule. 

Sometime after lunch, Jonghyun had stopped by with a huge file on the previous attacks on Minho’s life. He took Taemin through it while Minho continued to work, and Taemin was taken aback that there had been three attacks on Minho before the one yesterday. None of it had made it to the news, or at least not recorded as an attack on Minho and were reported as accidents. The first had been at the inauguration of the shopping complex at CK’s Legacy theme attraction– the huge chandelier in the middle was tampered with and timed to fall on Minho during his speech. There was clear proof of it being a murder attempt but to not let Legacy gain any negative publicity, it was covered up as an accident. The second one was when a fire broke out in one of CK’s warehouses on the very day Minho was on an inspection. The third one was when the brakes of Minho’s car had been meddled with and Minho had barely scathed through by colliding into a mountain of sand in one of the nearby construction sites. 

Taemin sighed, he would have to take extreme care of his work so that there would be absolutely no evidence of his murder _not_ being classified as an accident. He had gone over the file over and over to recognize how the evidence had been captured from Jonghyun’s team so that he could avoid all those pitfalls when he would put his plan in action. He knew it was tricky because even a genuine accident would seem suspicious due to the previous three attempts on Minho’s life. 

When it was going to be like this, he might’ve just taken care of it with a bullet. But he had to refrain from using his own logic and sense because his _client_ wanted an accidental death… and they shall have it. 

He was now thinking over the past cases and details, leaning against Minho’s chair. Unfortunately, the people around Minho were far more aware than the police, had sophisticated resources and advanced technology as well. Everything that he also possessed. He had no upper hand in this situation. It would be easy to kill Minho, there would not even be a speck of evidence that his plan would leave and the matter would be an open and shut case. It would be classified as an accident in police records and announced the same to the public, but there was no way Jonghyun was ever letting go of it. The actual feat wasn’t the kill, but to outrace Jonghyun and his resources because there was no way he could beguile him into thinking it was an accident.

“I don’t care, I am going to the gala,” Minho’s latest call was with Jonghyun, who had struck off some high PR event from Minho’s schedule, “I funded the whole auction, what do you mean I can’t be there? I’m the _host_ – oh, just shut up–”

Something clicked in Taemin’s mind then and he smiled to himself, his smile almost devilish as he focused on his thoughts, the twinkling city lights growing blurry in his unfocused gaze.

* * *

Taemin sighed when he finally dropped on his couch, in his pajamas, his fringe falling over his eyes. It had been quite a while since he had relaxed this way because he had returned home after two full days. Minho had almost lured him to stay at his hotel again– almost– but Taemin knew when to draw the line between work and pleasure. He closed his eyes for a bit, leaning back into the couch, remembering that little pout on Minho’s face when Taemin had evaded his offer to exercise with him in the hotel’s gym, followed by every other effort Minho had made to make him stay. 

“He’s so fucking clingy,” Taemin breathed, but he bit his lip coyly because he liked every bit of it– the borderline obsessiveness, the attention, the dependency, the sex– and of course, Minho’s arrogant yet humorous personality. He was ridiculously handsome, to top it all off. He sighed again, blinking to brush those thoughts away as he got up and headed to the other room.

The room was messy, and had his usual setup of a curved desk with three systems. The walls were filled with a few notice boards full of notes and printouts that Taemin had stuck with the days passing by on his assignment. He approached one of the boards and on a blank sticky note scrawled ‘gala’ and the date beside it before he sat at his desk, pulling his legs up and sitting cross-legged as he waited for his systems to switch on. He put on his clear, anti-glare frame before he began to type away. 

It was a pain, but he decoded the algorithms protecting the data on his computers. He rested back as his code did the work and soon enough the two side screens began to fill up. He shifted the display of those two screens to the empty wall in front. Each screen had at least twenty little windows, now zoomed on his wall, displaying the CCTV footage of all the roads and highways that Minho made use of both daily and occasionally. He pulled his chair closer to the middle, unprojected screen and clicked open the code he had been writing for a few days now.

“Fuck,” He cursed when after a good whole hour, the code crashed and a string of errors filled his screen. He sighed and tried again. 

It wasn’t the first time he was trying automotive hacking and all he was doing was modifying the code he had once used in a previous assignment, but the Audi’s system was highly sophisticated and the bug using which he had to perpetrate was failing to execute, each time colliding into a new issue or security feature. He had thought it would be easy, he had almost laughed at Minho’s naivety, handing his car over to Taemin so trustingly, unaware of how he could replicate the car’s systems and build a program to control it remotely. But it was no commercial car, the security provisions on it were stronger than military grade and were quite unique. And it wasn’t just the software he had to break into but also the hardware and the communication system of the automobile. It wasn’t a one path hack. It was certainly one insanely priced car in the market but looking at how much room it supported for allowing custom security provisions, Taemin was beginning to think that the millions Minho had spent on his car were actually worth it. It was buying him more time to live, after all.

Taemin left his changed code to debug before he rested back, grabbing his tab and scrolling through the files on Minho. He kept glancing at his screens as he went through the jargon, skimming through, getting bored and impatient at how fucking detailed and unnecessary everything was. He was totally judging Jonghyun on _how_ he would’ve even gathered so much detail. He had made it up– there was no doubt about it. He finally hit the file on Minho’s medical profile and as he went through it, he mouthed a little _oh_ , understanding why Minho had sneezing fits quite so often. The memory of him sneezing that day and then speaking to Jonghyun over the phone through the Bluetooth– 

Taemin straightened up, “The Bluetooth.” He set his tab to the side and dragged his chair closer to his desk, opening a new window, loading the code freshly and making a fresh start to his modifications. He looked back and forth between the Audi’s OS he had copied in a drive and kept biting his lip as he furiously put his idea into code– getting frustrated at how his fingers just wouldn’t follow the speed of his mind.

He didn’t know how long he had been typing, erasing, starting afresh– his code was a mess– but it was going somewhere– and he finally finished writing it out and began arranging it. He rested back and ran it, watching the code compile on his screen. He flinched at the sound of his phone– it was his alarm– he glanced at the time and it was 5.30 A.M. _Shit_.

He glanced from his phone and his irritation on not getting any sleep blew away when he watched the last of his program execute. There were no errors… and his designed interface had opened.

_AMV7491 override success._

_ECU_sys now in admin_elysian718’s control._

“Fucking hell–” Taemin was taken aback, his lips itching to curve up but he pursed his lips in thought instead. “Bluetooth 5.0.” He whispered to himself. Unlike the other features, the Bluetooth of the car wasn’t as advanced as he had expected. It was the latest commercialized version, and though there were better versions available, they wouldn’t suit a car’s stereo– at least not without some major tweaks. The Audi certainly had the best it could support but that meant for Taemin’s plan to work he had to be on site. “400 meters.” He looked at one of his screens, pulling up the interactive map he had generated from all the routes Minho took during his average workday. There was no way out of this. If his Wifi hack had worked, he could have done it from the comfort of his home. But now he _had_ to be by Minho’s side. 

“Choi Minho,” He rested back, sighing, “I guess it’s till death do us part, huh.”


	4. The Other Way Around

The next day after Minho's routine jog, Taemin washed up and changed into his work attire at Minho’s suite before he went ahead to have the elevator ready for him. They got out and the staff bowed to him as he walked through the hotel lobby, suddenly slowing down as they grew closer to the entrance. Taemin heard him softly curse under his breath before he regained his pace and when they were right at the door, Taemin took out a box from under his coat. The sound of it being snapped open made Minho halt and look at him. 

“For someone who is filthy rich,” Taemin said as he took out aviators from the box and handed them to Minho, “You don’t have spares at all.”

Minho let out a chuckle before he took the aviators and put them on, “Where did you find them? I looked everywhere.”

“Just not in your car’s glove box,” Taemin answered before getting the door for him.

“Honestly, I don’t remember when I last wore this pair.” He smirked as he walked to the car, without breaking out into a sneezing fit, “And I _do_ have spares. I just got rid of them for a bit. Well, apparently, except for the one in the glove box.”

Taemin’s brows constricted as he watched Minho get into the passenger seat and after closing the door for him, he got into the driver’s seat, thinking over his last sentence.

Minho smirked upon finding Taemin caught up in his words, “Since now you know I have PSR*, it means you have reached my medical file which is file #58 and you can just skip the rest 27 now. They are all useless anyway.”

_(*Photic Sneeze Reflex: Reflexive sneezing induced by sunlight)_

Taemin gripped at the wheel before he stepped on the gas, putting on a forced smile to hide his annoyance, “So it was _you_ who put me through those bugged files.”

“Yep. After all, I’m handing my life over to you,” He admitted, “It’s the least I could do to assure myself if it’s in the right hands.”

Taemin was slightly taken aback at his words, “So… is it in the right hands?” 

Minho smiled gently, “Yes.”

* * *

  
  
  


It was another day of being cooped up indoors. All of Minho’s meetings were converted into video conferences and Taemin had nothing else to do but the usual chores of bringing his boss food and drink. It was boring and his lack of sleep was overpowering everything else. He could fight it if he had something to do, but with absolutely no work, he found himself almost giving in to his exhaustion a couple of times. And he finally did give in, the TV softly blaring as he fell asleep on the sofa.

Minho looked up from his files, suddenly stopping what he was saying over the phone as his gaze settled on Taemin, whose brows were slightly furrowed in his sleep. He kept bringing his arm over his eyes, to block the brightness of his surroundings, but it was probably uncomfortable because it kept slipping off as he fell deeper into sleep. Minho smiled to himself as he continued the call, but pressed a button on his desk and the blinds slowly dropped behind him, covering the entire window and blocking out the afternoon light. He pressed a few buttons more and completely dimmed the area around Taemin, keeping only the light above him switched on. 

Taemin responded to the comfortable darkness, turning in his sleep, the wrinkle between his brows smoothening. He was snoring the next moment and Minho flinched slightly, eyes wide, a smile of amusement forming on his face when that loud snore was followed by softer, dainty ones. “He must’ve been really tired…” Minho whispered to himself, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Taemin’s sight, how aberrantly adorable he seemed, sleeping without a care in that formal getup.

Taemin woke up about three hours later and sat up with a jerk, looking too confused as he spun his head around, his gelled hair now unkempt, a few locks sticking out in weird directions. Minho chuckled to himself as he watched Taemin get on his feet, clear his throat as he pressed down the wrinkles on his attire before he approached his desk. 

“Was I out for too long?” He asked, clearing his throat again because his voice was hoarse.

“Not long.” Minho answered, “And don’t worry there was no danger lurking around. Not even Jonghyun.”

Taemin might’ve been a little out of it because he ended up laughing softly. Minho was taken aback. He had never seen him laugh like that, it was devoid of both arrogance and amusement. The lingering smile on his face was just… soft and endearing. He blinked and averted his gaze when Taemin looked at him after having gazed around. He turned and stepped down and Minho halted him, “If you’re making coffee, make some for me too?”

“Sure,” Taemin answered, heading towards the pantry only to stop short in front of the long mirror Minho had on his wall. He was frowning as he patted down his hair and Minho knew Taemin’s lips were moving in incoherent curses when his hair just wouldn’t answer the strokes of his fingers. He walked past the mirror into the pantry, returned with two mugs of coffee, and dropped down in one of the chairs opposite Minho after having set the other mug on the coaster next to Minho’s pen stand.

“I was out for quite long,” Taemin commented as he sniffed at his coffee, “It’s 7.30 in the evening now. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Minho took a sip of his coffee, “Because I need you in your best form. I’m flying to Japan tonight.”

“When?” Taemin raised his gaze to meet Minho’s.

“Flight is at midnight.”

“And you’re telling me this _now_?”

“Don’t you like surprises?” Minho snickered before he sighed, “I fucking hate them. Especially ones that mean more work. Seems like some trouble brewed up at the factory with our manufacturer–” He sighed again, “I’m just gonna stop there, it’s bullshit anyway.”

“Wow, sucks.” Taemin hummed, “Anything I can do to help? Besides being your handsome bodyguard.”

Minho smirked, “How about you go on a date with me after the issue is resolved?”

Taemin raised his brows, “How is that going to help you?”

“Handling that mess over there would become more bearable if I know there’s something good waiting for me at the end of it.”

“Are you sure your bodyguards run away because of Jonghyun and not your smooth advances?”

Minho rested back in his chair, bemused, “You tell me. You’re the only one who has lasted this long.”

Taemin gave him a look of disbelief, “It’s my fourth day on the job.”

“Exactly.”

Taemin just stared at Minho, intrigued, before he finally asked, “...how long do they usually last?”

“Not one has completed their second day. Sometimes they don’t report for duty after the first day. And the ones who do, don’t come back after lunch.”

“No way.”

“I’m really strict, you know.”

“As if.”

“Just not to you.” Minho softly added, “None of those who reported a second day brought me a falafel sandwich. It was only you.” 

“So you got all soft for me,” Taemin cocked a brow, “...because I brought you the right sandwich?”

“Because you cared enough to read through file #12 in one night.”

“Is that really the only reason?”

“Of course not.” Minho got up and approached Taemin, bending and resting his hands on the armrests of Taemin’s chair, “You had me whipped long back.” He was leaning closer, “And it took only that much from you to blur the lines between my professional and personal sentiments.”

“And here I was,” Taemin whispered, his gaze settling on Minho’s lips, “Thinking that it was because I saved your life and not because of a _sandwich_.”

Minho chuckled, straightening up, “I fucking hate falafel, by the way.”

Taemin let out the breath he was holding, rolling his eyes, “Then what is it that you like?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Minho smirked, “ _You_.”

Taemin scoffed before he picked up his coffee and watched Minho get back to his work, smiling into his mug.

* * *

  
  
  


Before they headed for the airport, Taemin drove Minho back to the hotel, where Minho exercised, washed up, and dressed in casual clothing– jeans, t-shirt, and a long, fuzzy coat, paired with sneakers. Taemin almost dropped his glass when Minho had walked out of his wardrobe. Him in a suit was certainly one thing and him like this was certainly another. _Slippery slope_ , Taemin reminded himself before turning away from him to finish his water.

“You’re really thirsty, huh.” Minho took the stool beside him, his eyes on the water bottle Taemin had emptied, oblivious to how Taemin had almost choked on his sip at his statement. “Shower’s free now.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Taemin suppressed his cough and got up right away, heading for the shower.

When he returned, he changed into the spare suit he kept in the backpack and that was when he realized that he had no more clothes to change into. “How long will you be away?” He asked, coming out as he tucked his shirt in and Minho threw him a towel, having noticed water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders.

“A couple of days?”

“Where’s your bag?”

“I don’t need one.” Minho answered and before Taemin could ask the next question, he added, “I own a hotel there too.”

“How convenient.” Taemin rubbed his hair before dropping the towel onto the couch, “Mind if I make a pitstop?”

“Yes, very much,” Minho zipped up his pouch that had his passport and itinerary, “I’m not letting go of the opportunity of dressing you… so just forget about your bodyguard suits for the next couple of days.”

“You know, it might not be just clothes I’d need?”

Minho fumbled in his pocket, taking out a platinum card that he held between his two fingers, “What’s this beauty for?”

Taemin rolled his eyes.

“Tell me, whatever that you wanna pick up, is it something money cannot buy?”

“For a moment I forgot how disgustingly rich you are.” Taemin made a face of distaste as he came and stood beside him.

“Don’t tell me you don’t love money.” Minho grinned, gently grabbing his waist and pulling him into his arms.

“Lucky for you,” Taemin wound his arms around his neck, smirking, “I do.”

Minho kissed his arrogant smile, “How much?” He whispered against his lips, kissing down his neck.

“More than how much I love you,” Taemin pulled himself away from Minho, amused at the way he pouted when Taemin walked out of his arms. He put on his tie and blazer, getting slowly unnerved by how Minho was grinning. “What?” He asked, putting on his shoes.

“At least you said it,” Minho passed him by, smirking, “That you love me.”

* * *

The flight was rather quiet and short, Minho slept through most of it, while Taemin just sat comfortably beside him, enjoying the reclining seats of the first class, as he checked the code he had been working on, on his phone. 

It was almost 4 A.M. when they reached Minho’s hotel in Tokyo, which was again named _Astral_. Like the one back in Seoul, the presidential suite was reserved solely for him. Taemin noticed Arc bodyguards around this hotel as well, but none of them either recognized him or found him suspicious, probably because they were from the local branch here and had no acquaintance with their Korean colleagues. Taemin decided to still keep his guard up just in case because, though he had backed up his infiltration into Arc to not let any notifications or emails send out about his assignment, all it took for his cover to blow was if someone manually checked Minho’s assignment file. Considering Minho’s track record, the fact that Taemin had lasted 4 days would be enough reason to catch anyone’s interest and get his fake profile investigated. The last thing he wanted was being busted before he could achieve what he was here for.

The hotel’s plan was exactly like the one back in Seoul, it was just as luxurious, just decorated closer to Japanese culture and traditions. Taemin looked around Minho’s suite, going about his usual routine of checking for anything dangerous or off about it. He had already loosened up– the first things he had yanked off were his shoes and socks, then his blazer, tie, and belt, and though his shirt’s first couple of buttons were off, his shirt was still neatly tucked in. Arc’s suits were highly functional and professional but wearing them for so long was just a pain.

“Before you ask,” Minho joined him when he was gazing out the windows of the living room, “The hotel’s entirely booked and there’s room only in my suite.”

“Subtle.” Taemin smirked, “Guess I have no choice but to tolerate you.”

“Wake me up by 8?” Minho yawned, “I wanna check out the factory before I walk into the meeting at 11.”

“Sure…” Taemin bit back a yawn too, but Minho caught him restraining it. He grabbed his hand, “Come on.” He dragged him to the bedroom and made him sit on the bed, before getting in himself, pulling the comforter on himself and Taemin just stared at him.

“You know, the suite has only one bedroom, and this bed’s huge.” Minho answered his stare, “And it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed with me.”

“Not for platonic purposes.” Taemin just wanted to sleep on the couch. Anywhere, to be honest. Anywhere away from Minho. So he could do his _actual_ work. 

“Do you wanna have sex, then?” Minho asked, barely keeping his eyes open.

“No,” Taemin replied, getting off the bed but Minho caught his wrist.

“My bodyguard needs to be in his best form.” He whispered, his eyes that were fighting sleep, so pleadingly innocent. 

Taemin cursed under his breath, cursed the many charms of Choi Minho, cursed at how vulnerable he was becoming because of them... and he sighed, giving in and dropping beside him, but turning away. He heard Minho laugh softly, it wasn’t in victory, it wasn’t in arrogance, just mellow, genuine laughter. Taemin’s frustration calmed a bit and he closed his eyes, opening them again when Minho snaked his arm around his waist, shifting closer and nuzzling into him.

“You said you’d tolerate me,” Minho whispered, his words fading into soft, rhythmic breathing, and Taemin closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the effect Minho’s existence, his gestures, his proximity was having on him.

And it was the very first time that he felt a little morbid, thinking about the day in the near future when nothing of Choi Minho will exist.

* * *

  
  
  


They were all ready to leave at 8, Taemin dressed in a suit he had grabbed from Minho’s walk-in closet before Minho could get the chance to make him dress in whatever he wanted to dress him in. He had a hunch it would either be something hideous for laughs or just something borderline raunchy. He was right as it was the latter. He had gotten a good look at the row of clothes in his closet that still had tags on and looked a size smaller than Minho’s. Though he’d totally wear those clothes, he was not going to give Minho the satisfaction, moreover, if he got the chance to put his plan in motion during this trip, he wouldn’t wanna be caught in attire that would easily identify him from the rest. Taemin was glad there was only one size difference between the two because being dressed in a baggy suit would stand out too.

Minho clicked his tongue when he glanced at their reflection in the elevator’s doors, but Taemin ignored his pout, at how snug his navy blue three-piece suit was in contrast to the slightly loose black one he was wearing, how Minho’s short hair was groomed to perfection and how obvious Minho was making it from his expression that he had dressed to kill only for him. Taemin took a breath before taking out Minho’s aviator case from under his jacket, opening it, and handing it to him. 

Minho put them on, smirking at his handsome reflection, at how aloof Taemin was being ever since the morning, not responding to his flirtatious ways. He couldn’t see his eyes through those Ray Bans, his face was as humorless as it ever could be. It was a little odd, but maybe Taemin was just not in the mood, so he let it be.

“It’s right-hand drive here, you’ll be okay?” Minho asked when Taemin took the keys from the valet after they had come out.

“I can drive anyhow and everything,” Taemin answered as he held the door for Minho.

“Even a truck?” Minho asked when Taemin had gotten into the driver’s seat beside him.

“Even a truck.” Taemin admitted before he turned, glancing at the amused grin Minho was wearing, “Don’t imagine it.”

“Too late,” Minho whispered, chuckling, “Let’s take the scenic route, not the highways.”

“Okay,” Taemin hummed, altering the navigation.

* * *

  
  


The factory was far away from the city and as Minho had mentioned, not taking the highways was quite soothing, because the road, though only a single lane and narrow, had a lot of fields on the side. The air was fresher and Taemin rolled down the windows, to be able to hear the chirping of birds he hadn’t been able to hear for quite a long time. Minho had started playing music through his phone’s Bluetooth, and honestly, it was entirely ruining the picture– listening to a variety of music genres, from metal to bubble-gummy electropop music when traveling through such serenity– but, Taemin didn’t really mind his choice of music. What had him repressing his laughter was that Minho’s music taste was quite adorable since it did not match his personality at all.

Finally, scattered warehouses came into their view and Taemin pulled into one that had the CK logo. He parked it right in front of the entrance and as he got out, he noticed the lack of sounds, the lack of men. Someone in a suit did come scurrying when spotting Minho coming out of the car. He greeted him in Japanese and led him inside, explaining something which Taemin got bored of and tuned out, deciding to look over his surroundings instead.

The man left after a while and it was only Minho surveying the equipment with Taemin following a step behind. Taemin had gotten a gist of the situation– the workers of this warehouse– who were actually outsourced from a partner company called _Kinboshi_ – had been recalled from the site due to some conflicts in the contract with CK. Minho had also heard some complaints about the equipment so he was here to check and resolve it, even though that wasn’t the reason behind the strike. Taemin had overheard him order millions worth of equipment right on the spot, replacing a good bunch of what he had inspected. 

When the manager returned, Taemin had stopped a few steps away as he watched Minho examine the next set of equipment. His gaze trailed towards a low squeaky sound, following the queue of shelves behind where Minho was standing– shelves housing rows of heavy machinery, and Taemin just glanced through them, finding a wheel off in one of the shelves in between. It had come loose from its socket due to the weight of the machinery it was holding and the shelf was slightly slanted to the right, towards Minho. He watched the wheel shake a little bit, affected by the sound and vibrations coming from the equipment Minho had just turned on to test. He looked at Minho next, who was oblivious to the situation, increasing the intensity of the machine he was operating, dousing the entire warehouse in more noise, drowning the little squeaks of the wheel breaking. Taemin turned his gaze back to the wheel, knowing that if the wheel slid off just a bit more, the shelf would fall, sending the others crashing down like dominos upon Minho, who wouldn’t even notice it due to the sound and movement of the machinery around him.

_It’s perfect_. Taemin thought to himself. And he wouldn’t even have to do a thing. He stepped back a little more, to put distance between the scene and him, to delay his “efforts” of saving Minho. It _really_ was perfect, because the factory was known to have faulty or old equipment for a valid reason and there would be no question of someone tampering with it; plus there was a witness apart from himself– the manager– who could say without a doubt that what was to transpire was truly an accident.

He just watched Minho after that, his lips curving up slightly, thinking that he’d have to let go of the pleasure he had reserved for himself, the pleasure of seeing Minho’s awareness of who’d killed him in the guise of an accident. Letting go of that was worth saving up on all his other efforts he’d have to make to _create_ a scenario that was now naturally happening.

The wheel zoomed out of its socket right then, the squeak was louder but had not reached either the manager or Minho, but Taemin turned to it, finding the shelf tilt and rest on the one next to it audibly, pushing it as well. The second shelf tilted quicker and crashed into the next one, and then the next. It happened within a fraction of seconds and though Taemin should have been watching it unfold with anticipation, somehow instead, he felt dreadfully panicked, his heart was stuck in his throat painfully as his eyes settled on Minho.

“Sir!” The Manager shouted, scrambling away and Minho turned, finding the shelf behind him tilt towards him in speed, and he froze, his eyes widening in fear– he couldn’t get himself to move, all he could do was close his eyes, bracing himself as the machinery inside slid and fell quicker than the shelf– 

There was a loud crash and Minho waited for the echoes of it to fade before he opened his eyes, finding his entire body numb, his heartbeat filling his ears. He opened his eyes slowly, his heart dipping in fear of what had happened. His senses were growing sharper with the passing seconds, he had felt being pulled away, but he couldn’t have registered it with how swift it had been, with the way his senses had numbed in fear. He had lost balance somewhere along the way and fallen, his legs were trembling and something was clenching his neck– it was his own shirt. He felt the back of his collar, finding a hook stuck in it– a hook attached to a stretched belt. His eyes followed the belt and found it in Taemin’s hand, who seemed agitated, his eyes turbulent, a little tremor in the hand that was holding the belt.

Minho unhooked himself with shaky hands, sending the stretched belt constricting back to Taemin. He got up slowly and approached him, “Taemin…”

Taemin’s stupor changed suddenly at his voice and he quickly fastened the belt around his waist, the hook joining another to complete a buckle. It took him moments, but he finally asked, “Are you alright, Sir?”

“Yes,” Minho breathed, his face flushed with all the blood and adrenaline his near encounter with death had given him, “Thanks to you.”

“I’ll have the car ready,” And he walked past him, leaving Minho staring at his back.

* * *

  
  
  


Though Minho had seemed shaken at that moment, he had quickly composed himself. He had been quiet throughout the ride back into the city, the aftermath of the incident leaving him. 

Taemin, on the other hand, had only grown frantic as the entire incident settled further in his mind with passing time. His expression was blank despite the chaos raging inside. He wasn’t naive nor unaware of what he had done, and why he had done it. It had thrown him off and though he knew why, he couldn’t stomach it.

He couldn’t stomach the fact that he had _succumbed_ to Minho’s charms to an extent that his intent and instinct were no longer the same.

His overconfidence and the way he kept humoring Minho for his own amusement was blurring the lines.

He had to do something about it. He had to sort it out because if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be him leading Minho to his death, but the other way around.

* * *

  
  
  


They reached the subsidiary HQ and headed directly for the conference room. Taemin was allowed inside and he just stood to the side, watching Minho lead the meeting, watching him politely cut down the aggressive directors of Kinboshi while also solving the dispute rather efficiently.

Taemin would’ve usually tuned out of such conversations but he was in dire need of a distraction and he ended up paying attention to the entire discourse. It was lengthy and the CEO of Kinboshi kept derailing the conversation, but Minho was apt in steering the matter back towards the correct direction… and finally, after tiresome four hours, a date was decided on which the workers would return to the factories. 

Taemin followed Minho to his office on the highest floor, it was exactly like the one in Seoul, except for the obvious Japanese influence in the interior decor. There was a ton of paperwork to be taken care of now that so many dynamics between Kinboshi and CK had changed and Minho did not waste a second and took his seat at the desk, calling for all the files to be brought in. Taemin watched a subordinate place a pile of files, explaining it was the other paperwork that had piled since his last visit and Minho sighed deeply, nodding before excusing him. Taemin sat in the opposite chair, glancing over how cluttered his desk was– which it never was for as long as Taemin had worked for him.

“Anything I can do to help?” He offered and Minho looked up from his work, “Bring me some coffee please?” Minho answered with a weak smile, “And can you keep an eye on all the files I have finished working on? I tend to just throw them back and end up wasting my time reviewing them again.”

“Sure.” Taemin got up, segregating the files properly on Minho’s desk, having remembered which stack was which when his subordinate had announced it. Once done, he returned with coffee and did as he was asked.

“Any specific order?” Taemin pulled the accumulated bunch of Minho’s finished work towards himself.

“Alphabetic but in terms of the company, not project title.”

“Got it.” 

It did seem a lot but there were only 27 files in the stack that had been brought in, and Minho had left the ones that required phone calls to the last, which he was wrapping up now, turned away and glancing at the city view from his seat as Taemin browsed on his phone, having finished arranging everything, save those that Minho was finishing up. He had his black screen light on and was going through his program, deep in thought as he made some changes to it.

When Minho was finally done, he turned around in his chair and rested back, sighing.

“That was impressive,” Taemin said, locking his phone.

“The paperwork? Not really.”

“No, you replaced most of the equipment and you are getting the whole factory renovated to safeguard the site against every accident. Putting that forward got you out of those unfair conditions Kinboshi had laid down to continue outsourcing workers.”

Minho smiled, “You are a smart one, aren’t you.” He straightened up, “It’s not these managers or directors that work onsite, but workers. I was never gonna agree to those unfair conditions that would let the higher-ups make more money. Honestly, if that was all the problem, I wouldn’t even bother to come here out of schedule. If they didn’t comply, I could just get another vendor. What I came here for was to resolve the complaints I got onsite. No matter who works here, they are my responsibility and they shouldn’t be in the slightest danger. Turns out, my resolution was handy in shutting those assholes up as well. So you could say I hit two birds with one stone.” He paused, smiling in amusement, “But what’s more impressive is that _belt_ of yours. Now I know why you wear the same one every day. It’s a weapon in disguise. Sweet.”

Taemin just rolled his eyes before ending up smiling, “Being in my field has its perks.”

“But the best perk’s gotta be me, right?” Minho smirked and Taemin just shook his head, sighing, “If you’re done, let’s go.”

“Not until you answer me.”

Taemin lifted his feet and crossed them on his desk, and rested back, closing his eyes, “Guess we’re staying the night then.”

“The fact that you are not denying it speaks volumes already,” Minho said, switching on his laptop.

Taemin felt caught red-handed at his words but he didn’t let it show even a bit. “ _Cocky bastard_.” He mumbled to himself, and Minho hummed, working on his laptop, “Did you say something?”

But Taemin didn’t respond and pulled his Ray-Bans over his eyes, in pretense to block the lights of the room, only to shift a few moments later, settling his disguised gaze on Minho again.

* * *

  
  
  


Minho had another meeting in the evening, and as Taemin flipped through channels trying to pass his time while Minho was in his meeting, he noticed that his boss had made the news again. The media had got a wind of Minho’s presence in Japan, the recent tension between Kinboshi seemed to have made quite a ruckus since it was what the anchor was discussing with some other experts, some useless nonsense about how the broken partnership would affect the rest of the industry. Apparently, being on bad terms with CK meant being boycotted by the rest of the industry, but Kinboshi was a huge company by itself so the possible tension between them could mean dividing the industry in two. There was even some talk about boycotting _CK_ since it wasn’t Japanese but a foreign company that was now reigning in the Japanese industrial market. 

When they headed out, they were met by a few reporters outside the building, shooting questions at Minho regarding CK’s recent tensions with Kinboshi and about his attempted assassination back in Korea. Minho ignored them, the Arc bodyguards did a good job keeping them at bay so he could get into his car without much hassle.

They reached the hotel safely and Minho washed up first and was resting on his sofa, having reclined it into a sleeper. The other sofa was littered with some files Minho had brought home because he was planning to head to work late the next morning. He was watching something on TV, yawning– his yawn halting and slowing down as his eyes caught Taemin step out of the bedroom, his hair still moist from the shower, wearing one of Minho’s nightshirts and boxers that were barely visible from how long the shirt was. Minho bought his sleep clothes a size larger, and that meant it was two sizes larger for Taemin. Taemin had chosen to discard the pants that went with it, an impulsive decision that had risen from how messily occupied his mind had been while he had been showering.

Taemin had barely done anything but he was mentally exhausted, he didn’t want to overthink– or even _think_ anymore. He didn’t want to complicate something that was probably simple. He didn’t want to worry over something so trivial. He'd always lived as he wished and obtained all that he wanted. 

Regardless of everything, he wanted Minho and there was no way he _wouldn’t_ have him.

He didn’t have to care about anything as long as he did what he wanted.

It was just that easy. 

  
  


“Scoot.” 

Minho’s gaze broke at Taemin’s voice, having realized he had been gawking at him all this while and hadn’t noticed him already reach him.

Minho smirked a little, spreading out, “Sorry, not enough room.”

Taemin just climbed onto the sleeper and instead of pushing Minho to the side, he sat between his legs and rested against him, snuggling until he was comfortable, eyes focusing on the television.

Minho was taken aback but he smiled, gently winding his arms around him, savoring his warmth and the sweet smell of his shampoo filling his senses.

“You’re really narcissistic,” Taemin commented and Minho looked at the TV. He had been watching his interview from the documentary on CK Legacy which was being aired in Japanese.

“Maybe,” Minho shrugged, “Or maybe I am just revising the shit I said in this interview because I have another coming up soon and I might have to repeat all of it.”

“Shit?” Taemin raised his brows, “So… you bullshitted this entire interview?”

“Did you really think I worked my way up from a clerk to a CEO?”

Taemin was silent for a while, “I thought it was bullshit too but… it seemed a bit believable… after I saw you at work.”

Minho smiled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, holding him a little tighter, “I got you good, didn’t I?”

Taemin squirmed, ticklish at his warm breath against his skin, “Just how much of it did you fake?”

“Almost everything.” Minho answered, latching his lips onto Taemin’s neck, kissing and suckling, his hands finding their way under Taemin’s shirt, caressing his figure and halting at the band of his boxers, “May I?”

Taemin chuckled breathlessly, finding the way he had uttered those two words adorable. “Yeah,” He answered, gasping at how swiftly Minho’s hands found their way inside his boxers after his one word, his slightly cold fingers wrapping around his heated skin. 

The sound of the TV mingled with Taemin’s arrhythmic, labored breathing, his little moans, and gasps; how he squirmed, ticklish at the hot kisses Minho left on his neck and shoulder, nuzzling into him now and then, feeling every little tremor of pleasure in Taemin’s body against his own, controlling it, triggering it with the stroke of his hand. 

Taemin’s hands fisted the cloth of Minho’s sleep pants, his writhing stimulating Minho as well, Taemin could sense Minho’s breathing shift every time he shifted against him. It was a matter of time until Taemin came undone, closing his eyes, jerking back against Minho, biting back his moan, the pleasure quaking in his entire existence. When he opened his eyes, his breathing slowly calming, he saw Minho wiping his hand with tissues and when Minho had goaled them into the trash bin, Taemin shifted, straddling Minho, “Change the channel, the dubbing artist’s voice is a turn-off.”

Minho smirked, grazing his thumb over Taemin’s lips, “You still came, though.”

Taemin grabbed the tent in Minho’s pants, making him groan sharply, “You’re not getting any,” Taemin leaned ahead and whispered into his ear, “If you don’t listen, _boss_.”

“Just who's the boss, huh?” Minho breathed, switching the TV off and Taemin’s lips curved up in victory, his fingers moving up into Minho’s hair, messing it up as he kissed him. “How about you show me?” He whispered against his lips and Minho simpered, biting Taemin’s lip before kissing him, quickly changing their positions, pinning him down, “Remember,” He whispered, provoked by Taemin’s words, his eyes glinting with lust, “You asked for it.”

Taemin grabbed Minho by his t-shirt, pulling him closer, “It’s _you_ who did,” He breathed, smirking as he wound his arms around his neck, kissing him.


	5. Changing Instincts

When Taemin stirred awake, he turned in his spot, finding a mess of files littered on the comforter beside him, Minho resting against the sofa back, going over one of them. He was unkempt and hadn’t even bothered to put on any clothes before working on his files. He noticed Taemin wake because of how his files moved when Taemin had pulled the comforter towards him a little while turning towards him.

Minho smiled, wishing him a good morning softly before turning back to his work and Taemin just watched him hazily, at the way his short hair was sticking up here and there, at the hickeys on his collarbones, shoulders, and chest. He looked every bit of the night they’d had, Taemin did too, he could even feel it. 

He buried his face into the pillow, sighing deeply. He never had to set rules for himself but now he understood why people set them in the first place. He had slept with the man he is tasked to kill thrice– twice _after_ he was given the assignment– and he knew it wasn’t just the sex that had him pulling Minho away from the shelves that would have resulted in him acing his assignment with literal flying colors. He had taken up a good number of assignments where he had seduced his target to kill them, he had even killed a few _during_ the sex, he was too ruthless to let any kind of momentary attraction affect his intentions– he even _enjoyed_ the thrill of seeing someone fascinated by him suddenly grow so fearful of him– but this time– this time was different. And he knew why. 

Because all of those people had been targets before being anything else and Minho was different. Minho had seduced him first, had become an existence he was undeniably and genuinely attracted to _before_ he had also become his target. 

But… a _target_ , that’s what he was. Before, after, and at the end of it all. The conclusions he had come to last night were hasty and lust-driven if anything. He regretted nothing of what he did last night based on those conclusions and his intentions were intact, yet the entire situation still had him a bit annoyed.

“All good, babe?” 

Taemin stirred to his voice, “Raving.” 

“I got an early start, so we can go on a date.” Minho chirped, “So don’t wear a suit today, wear something from what I so lovingly bought for you.”

“In your dreams,” Taemin replied in a muffled voice, turning away from him.

“You already do wear them… and a lot of other stuff in my dreams,” Minho said, smirking as he glanced over Taemin’s tempting bare back, his hair so prettily strewn on the pillow, “And then I strip you, or you strip yourself…” He paused, waiting for Taemin to react, but he didn’t, “I’m just trying to make my dream a reality.” Still, there was no response from him, but Minho knew he wasn’t sleeping. He closed his file and shifted closer, tracing patterns on Taemin’s back, leaning down and whispering, “I have a spotless track record of making everything I imagine, come true.”

Taemin turned at those words, a little taken aback at how close Minho was, but he met his gaze unwaveringly, arrogantly, “ _Someone_ has to break your streak.”

Minho pecked his lips, grinning, “ _Someone_ already broke it.”

* * *

Minho was pouting again after putting on his aviators, glancing at their reflection in the elevator door. He was wearing jeans paired with a shirt and a blazer, but Taemin was wearing a suit again, it was his own which he had probably gotten dry cleaned by the hotel staff. With his clothes now fitting him sharply, his longish hair tamed with gel, his Ray-Bans hiding his pretty almond eyes, and his face more humorless than the day before, he looked extremely rigid. His aura was menacing despite him not expressing anything. Minho had begun to think Taemin had been waking up on the wrong side of the bed these days for being so indifferent in the mornings only to loosen up into a provocative mess at the end of the day. He had to admit, Taemin was alluring regardless but he liked the latter part of him the best.

The reporters had been flocking outside his hotel complex but couldn’t get any close due to the security, same for when they reached the office. The news had gone live– about renovations taking place on the factory sites– but there probably had been no press release if _Kinboshi’s_ strike had ended or not, hence the reporters were still trying to get something by following Minho to the places he was known to frequent. Minho was uber cool with all of it like it was just another day. 

Taemin hadn’t seen him be flocked like this back in Seoul– only after his assassination but never for some business dealings– but it made sense after Taemin did a bit of research into the local media. CK had literally conquered the home appliance industry in such a short time, sending many companies bankrupt. It was a failed venture back in South Korea due to the stiff competition, but in Japan, CK Appliances was immensely successful. A major part of it being the fact that Minho had boosted the economy by investing in waste sites, making them into manufacturing factories, and hence, had created jobs for the locals. It was another thing that their competitor back home was banned in Japan, leaving Japan to be an easy playfield for CK. 

Taemin watched Minho wrap up his work for a while, trying to ascertain just _what_ in this man had made him so enviously successful– so much that it wasn’t just his own client, but many others too that wanted him dead. There was no dirt on him– Taemin had done some research– so perhaps the only reason people wanted him dead was out of pure jealousy or to level the playfield for themselves. 

Minho barely spent a couple of hours at his office and after he had gotten into the car, Taemin asked, bringing up the menu of the navigation, “Where to, Sir?”

“I’ll put it in,” Minho said, entering an address and they soon arrived in front of the most expensive-looking building of the richest neighborhood. It was a restaurant and Taemin knew from how the entire premises were vacant that Minho had booked it entirely. He took a seat when Minho asked him to and took off his Ray-Bans when Minho pushed the menu card towards him.

After the waiter had left with their orders, Minho gave Taemin an amused smile, “You’re not humble at all.”

“Says the one who booked the entire restaurant.”

When their food arrived, Taemin took a bite, only to slow down his chewing, not quite liking how bland the dish was. But before he could reach for the second bite, Minho had taken away his plate and replaced it with his own, “The most expensive dish here doesn’t match up to its worth in taste.” He whispered, taking a bite from Taemin’s plate.

“I don’t think so.” Taemin shot back, “I quite like it.” 

“And I like it too, so you wouldn’t mind giving up on it for your boss?”

Taemin sighed, stabbing his fork into Minho’s plate and taking a heated bite, trying not to let it leak on his face, how good Minho’s choice of food was.

* * *

  
  


Minho had entered their destination in the navigation again and Taemin could only guess when they had crossed city limits that Minho had entered the address for a beach. Minho hadn’t put in “so-and-so beach” but some random address– it was probably a rest stop or a bar near a beach. Minho had pushed his seat slightly back and from his posture and silence, Taemin knew that his eyes were closed behind those aviators. His playlist was softly playing, interrupted only by the Japanese navigation, which Taemin hadn’t bothered to change to English or Korean. He sighed, wanting to rest a bit too, and set the car on cruise control so he could rest his feet at least for a few minutes since the exit was about 12 miles away. But when the time came to take the exit and Taemin hit the brakes lightly to slow down… the car did not slow down.

Though Minho had his eyes closed, he must’ve been following the navigation because he immediately straightened up when he noticed Taemin not take the exit when prompted, “Taemin… you missed the exit.”

Taemin did not answer him and changed lanes, to steer away from cars that were merging onto the highway. He calmly fidgeted with the cruise control, with other controls as well– but nothing was working– the car was stuck on cruise control and the brakes had failed. 

Minho had been following Taemin’s every action, “...the car was tampered with, wasn’t it?”

“I’m certain it has been tampered with.” Taemin answered, his hands on the wheel tightening as he quickly changed lanes to avoid crashing into the car ahead that was traveling a tad bit slower than them, “Because something in the cruise control triggered brake failure and the car’s stuck on cruise control, the gears are stuck, nothing is working to break it.”

“Fuck.” Minho rested back, worrying on his lip, “Can we like, find a mountain of sand or hay, and crash into it like in the movies? I did it once, I’m sure we can do it another time.”

Taemin tried not to get annoyed, “We’re on a _highway_.” He took a breath, “I know you’re buckled up but you will have to hang on tighter. And I apologize in advance.”

“Wait– why–” Minho got the answer from a loud screeching noise, from the force that threw him against the door and he opened his eyes that he had instinctively shut at the extreme lurch, finding Taemin purposely crashing into the railing on the side and he felt the car slow down bit by bit from the friction of the collision. The car had slowed down enough to take the exit ramp so Taemin quickly changed lanes to take the next exit– but the slope of the ramp had quickened the car again. The curve was sharp and it took a lot of control so that it wouldn’t fall off the ramp. 

The moment the curve was handled and they were on the street, Taemin clicked his tongue, seeing a red light ahead of him and he swerved in the spaces between the two cars standing in the two lanes ahead of him, driving through them and running the light, barely evading the cars that were coming from the side. He shifted lanes– there was a railing on the right side of the road for a little distance as it was a bridge– and he used it to slow down the car. When their speed had lowered, he shifted lanes again, driving out of the bridge and making a turn on spotting greenery to the left– looking into the broken mirrors, checking his blind spots before looking at Minho who was clutching his seat belt, just watching Taemin drive with both horror and awe, “It’s the perfect chance to jump off, there’s grass on the side. There’s a slope ahead so the car is going to speed up again–”

“Ready when you are,” Minho said, unbuckling his seatbelt and Taemin unbuckled as well, his hands reaching for his door but it was jammed shut from the collision with the bridge railing.

Minho noticed his struggle and shut his door right back; and Taemin looked at him, “Why aren’t you jumping?!”

Minho ignored him and he looked out the window, letting those couple of cars pass them by and Taemin returned to control the steering because the car was now approaching the downhill slope, “Jump off before the slope–” But Minho reached for the handbrake and Taemin panicked, “Hey– no–” But it was too late, they went down swiftly and the moment they had crossed the slope, Minho had pulled the handbrake and the tires screeched terribly, the car lurched and spun on the road, still sliding ahead– and Taemin did his best to steer, losing focus of the road in the view that spun before him. It finally began to slow down and the car came to a halt, covering the entire two lanes– resulting in a few cars honking at them before passing them by, taking the wrong lane.

Taemin was breathless, panting as he rested back, taking a few breaths in before he turned to Minho– who was just the same– his lip swollen from how hard he had bitten on it– the fear and adrenaline of what had just happened fading from his demeanor as he sighed in relief.

“What the actual fuck– are you crazy?!” Taemin shouted the next moment and Minho flinched, laughing the very next second, “Wow I finally see you lose your temper. It’s so hot.”

Taemin swore under his breath before he released the parking brake and put the parking lights on, the release of the brake making the car sway ahead slowly. He steered it off the road and pulled the handbrake again, before getting off and leaning against the car, letting the soft breeze calm him. Minho got off and joined Taemin’s side, settling his eyes on the sunset against the slightly faraway ocean, before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“The car could have upturned,” Taemin began heatedly after a long moment of silence, “– or if the road was busier, we would have caused a fatal accident–”

Minho breathed out the smoke, tapping his cigarette to drop the accumulated ash, “I was not gonna get out of the car without you.”

“Mr. Choi, I believe you have completely underestimated me– I could have got out myself somehow– but even if I couldn’t have, you’re forgetting that I am dispensable. You hired me for that very reason. To protect _your_ life at _any_ cost.”

“I don’t care what the contract says, Taemin.” Minho said, taking off his aviators and hanging them in the neck of his shirt, “You aren’t dispensable to me.”

Taemin was breathing sharply after his outburst, his heart hammering away– unsure if it was because of that near-death experience or his agitation or something else. He simmered down, unsure of what to say to Minho’s calm statement. 

Minho offered him his smoke and Taemin took it, taking a drawl before returning it. He felt a bit calm after a couple of minutes and he finally spoke, “It’s a shame we couldn’t make it.”

“We did,” Minho smiled, “I wanted to watch the sunset with you and I am.”

“Did that include watching it from the side of the road, leaning against your wrecked car after having escaped death by inches?”

“It’s perfect, ain’t it?” Minho smirked, shifting closer to Taemin, their shoulders now brushing against each other.

Minho sighed and Taemin turned to glance at him, finding him wearing a handsome, blissful smile. Minho tilted his head the very next second, his gaze meeting Taemin’s, his smile so much more tender and Taemin turned his gaze away from him quickly, looking back at the darkening skies instead.

“This is nice,” Minho whispered, beginning to hum one of the songs from his playlist as he offered his light to Taemin again.

Taemin took it and pushed his Ray-Bans up his nose. He took a drag of it, biting back the words that were about to roll off his tongue in response to Minho, words that flared up in his mind… and he realized that within this moment he felt exactly like how he had felt being behind the wheel of that tampered car.

No longer in control.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Minho had called for a cab and they were now heading towards his hotel. Taemin rested his head against the window, uncaring of the way the driver had glanced at him questionably– possibly because he was still wearing his Raybans despite it now being dark. There was too much running in his mind… he was extremely annoyed and too exhausted to keep it from leaking onto his face– in his eyes. He no longer cared if he stood out to someone if it meant he could keep his turbulence to himself. 

They stayed till midnight at the hotel. After a quiet meal, Minho had been on the phone for hours– even on the way to the airport, well through the security, only putting it down to clear the checks, starting again once it was done and wrapping it up when they were boarding. Taemin had overheard almost everything. One of Minho’s employees had already picked up the car and had it analyzed. Taemin had been right. Someone had placed a trip mechanism in the cruise control which failed the entire automobile system. 

Once seated, Taemin watched as Minho tried to fight his sleep, doing something on his phone, but fell asleep instantly– it was understandable that today’s incident had overwhelmed him. Taemin was used to it– at least physically– but his mind was still rife with questions– and all of them were focussed on _who_ must have made this attempt. And for now, he had completely swept the fact under the rug that he was way too bothered about it when he shouldn't even be bothered at all.

Minho’s head softly fell on his shoulder, his scent wafted into his senses strongly, cutting short the thoughts he was lost in. Taemin finally lifted the Raybans from his eyes, putting them over his head. He was glad the entire cabin was empty save for them because it had completely thrown him off and he was way too tired to conceal it.

His changing instincts.

* * *

Minho was a little tipsy when they were passing through the security. He’d had some wine when he woke in the middle of the flight. He was walking alright, had his head in the right place but he almost seemed like a bubbly, lost overgrown kid, with his eyes squinted and pouting as he tried his best to tolerate the airport protocols. He had a fast pass but Taemin guessed it just wasn’t fast enough for him. Taemin made him wear a mask over his face to conceal his goofiness because there sure was going to be a horde of reporters once they stepped out. It wasn’t because of the attack on Minho but the controversy he had just resolved back in Japan that had indirectly revealed that CK’s competitor back home– _R &E Appliances_– had been banned in Japan. Apparently, this piece of news, though publicly known in Japan, had been suppressed in Korea and now with the reveal spreading like wildfire, the country was ablaze, thinking why R&E would’ve been banned, questioning the safety of their products. R&E had taken a huge blow and apparently, they were suing Minho for defamation. 

Taemin guessed Minho had seen the article too since he had been going through his phone and hence he’d drank some, to be able to digest the new troubles coming his way.

As he had predicted, there were reporters thronging the arrivals despite it being too early in the morning. They were being kept in check by both the airport security and Arc bodyguards. It was overbearingly noisy with the way they were constantly shooting their questions at him, clicking pictures, mics extended, almost invading Minho’s space but Taemin had him covered. Minho’s Audi was parked right in front and Taemin was more alert because now they were in the walkway where there were no railings or other infrastructure to aid the barricade put up by the security. They were clearly overwhelmed, barely keeping the perimeter and their clamor grew louder with their proximity. Taemin made sure no one could invade the perimeter and swiftly got Minho into the car, noticing as he got beside him that it was Jonghyun in the driver’s seat.

When they had taken the highway and had lost track of the tailing press, Jonghyun finally spoke, “You can take the day off since you’ve been on continuous duty for the last three days. I will take care of Mr. Choi’s security today. He will anyway not be leaving the hotel… to keep a low profile after that murder attempt… and the mess his business in Japan has created. I’ll drop you off at the bus stop if that’s alright?”

“Yes, that’s alright,” Taemin answered, sighing as he looked at his side, finding Minho out cold, leaning against the window, “Thanks.” He looked down at his phone because it had vibrated, and he unlocked it, finding that his phone screen had changed, filling with the encrypted text. He swiped and entered his unique key to decode it and the next moment, the _Elysian_ logo flashed on his screen. He swiped to get to the message, which remained on his screen for fifteen seconds before it turned into encrypted jargon again, after which his phone screen returned to normal.

Jonghyun dropped him off at the bus stop and he started walking back because his apartment was just a ten-minute walk away from there. He took the elevator and punched in the code to his apartment, kicking his shoes off the moment he was in. He dropped on his couch and stared at the ceiling, the words he had read blaring in his mind.

_Warning_   
_Mission deadline -48 HRS_   
_Deployment of Agent X9 if mission incomplete in -48HRS_

Taemin sighed, “Choi Minho… I guess your time’s up.”


	6. Hopeless and Helpless

Taemin had spent the whole night on his system, tweaking his code and getting it ready for deployment. Dawn had broken by the time he was done and he headed straight to bed, grateful that he had the day off. 

He had woken up in the afternoon, showered lazily, and was pouring himself some cereal. As much as he liked all and any kind of cereal, he was getting a bit sick of having to eat only that– or takeout– and was planning to hit the nearby convenience store later, since hadn’t cared to stock anything but cereal and milk, assuming that he wouldn’t be eating at home due to his _unpredictable_ schedule.

His doorbell rang and he stifled the rest of his yawn as he headed to get it, eyes roaming his surroundings out of habit, confirming that his gun was in between the books on the shelf right next to the door. He hit the intercom button and it displayed the one who was at his door and he blinked in surprise… finding it to be Minho.

Taemin just stared at Minho’s impatient image, the way he was dressed in a white sweatshirt, his hands buried in the long beige coat he’d thrown over it, his mask resting on his chin, oversized, blue-tinted glasses on his eyes. He rang the bell again and Taemin broke from his daze and opened the door, leaning against the frame as he questionably eyed Minho who smiled at him.

“Wow,” Minho whispered to himself, his eyes roaming Taemin’s figure, at how boyishly handsome he seemed in ripped jeans and a black turtleneck t-shirt, untidily tucked into his jeans. His hair was a moist mess which perhaps Taemin noticed, following Minho’s gaze and he pushed them back, masking his attempt of fixing them behind that gesture. 

“Who the fuck decided to put you in a suit?”

Taemin ignored his whisper, yet it almost made his lips curve upwards– _almost_ – but he suppressed his urge, “May I ask why are you here, Mr. Choi?”

“You can just call me Minho, I’m not here as your boss.” 

“Then I have no reason to see you. I will have Mr. Kim pick you up,” Taemin answered passively, taking out his phone, “I’ll wait with you in the lobby.”

“Okay, _fine_. Then accompany me as my _bodyguard_.”

“It’s my day off, I’m sure Mr. Kim will be here shortly–”

“Please,” Minho pouted, “I can’t stay cooped up at the hotel… especially with _Jonghyun_.”

Taemin sighed, cursing inwardly. _Damn_ , those doe eyes. He turned away from his door, leaving it open for Minho to enter. He entered the kitchen and continued pouring himself cereal and Minho followed him, resting against the doorframe of the kitchen, bemused, “Unicorn Froot Loops. Interesting.”

The box of cereal came flying at him and Minho laughed, catching the box which had already spilled pink and purple pieces on the floor on its way to him, watching Taemin pass him by with his bowl, chewing irritably. Minho reached for a handful in the box and put some in his mouth as he followed Taemin back into the living area, “I’m totally not judging you, babe.” He flopped down beside Taemin on the couch, “Wanna go on a date?”

Taemin ate his cereal, not answering him for long, but Minho bumped their shoulders lightly, “C’mon~”

“I’ll think about it if you clean the mess you created–”

“ _I_ created?” Minho raised his brows.

“Yes.” Taemin looked at him, dead serious, “And make me coffee.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Minho reached out for more cereal and stuffed it into his mouth, “Hey, this is actually really good.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

  
  


Taemin grimaced, still feeling the after-effects of Minho’s horrid coffee on his tongue even after he’d used mouthwash to cleanse his mouth. Minho was chuckling to himself as he sat cross-legged on Taemin’s bed, watching him trying to keep a straight face as he fumbled around in his wardrobe.

“No suit,” Minho softly commented, “It’s your day off.”

Taemin had at first decided to take out a suit but he really no longer had the patience for it. It was hard enough tolerating the taste in his mouth. He didn’t even have anything at home to wash it off– he only had cereal, more than half of which was in the trash and the rest of it in Minho’s stomach. Minho had said he'd buy him some proper coffee from the nearby cafe and Taemin had agreed, no longer wanting coffee– just the sweetest dessert they had so it could overpower and cure the atrocious taste that he felt was raging in his entire body and not just on his tongue. 

Taemin shouldn’t have let his guard down even the slightest. Now he understood what that shit-eating grin meant when Minho had served him coffee. He should have at least gotten the hint when he hadn’t made a cup for himself. He cursed under his breath. Doe eyes and a toothy, eye-crinkling smile. It was all that took for him to become gullible. The worst part of it was that the owner of said eyes and smile knew it too.

Taemin took out his leather jacket and grabbed his Raybans before putting on his belt swiftly. “Let’s go before your coffee ends up killing me.”

“You can always just kiss me, you know,” Minho smirked, “I bet I still taste like Unicorn Froot Loops.”

Taemin took the keys from Minho’s extended arm, “You are more disgusting than you are rich.”

“Says the one who has already kissed this disgusting mouth,” Minho pretended to count on his fingers, “Maybe thirty times?”

Taemin flipped his phone towards Minho, showing him his screen that was dialing Jonghyun’s number. “Don’t be naughty, Mr. Choi.”

“Okay, okay!” Minho got off his bed, “End it before it connects because even a missed call– and he’ll know I’m with you and come for me right away.”

But Taemin feigned a yawn and just kept the phone extended, making Minho lunge for it. He stepped behind, dodging him neatly, enjoying the little panic invading Minho’s eyes before he tapped on his phone and Minho relaxed, “A screenshot. You’re petty.”

Taemin smirked in victory, pocketing his phone, “ _That_ I am.”

* * *

Taemin scooped off a huge chunk of the cheesecake Minho had set before him and once it was filling his mouth, he felt a lot better, the sharp taste in his mouth no longer overpowering his senses. Minho had gotten both of them lattes and took a sip from his own, watching Taemin scoff the dessert down in no more than three bites.

Taemin licked the cream off the spoon, resting back– relieved that he couldn’t taste Minho’s brew anymore on his tongue. “Just what did you add in it to make it so horrible?” He ended up asking as he took a sip of his own latte, appreciating the delicate, mildly sweet taste of it more than ever.

“It’s a secret recipe,” Minho replied, “I call it the _love potion_.”

Taemin rolled his eyes at Minho’s corny smile.

“C’mon, it’s aptly named. Here you are, on a date with me. I should mark the recipe a success.”

“From where do you get all this bullshit?”

“Well,” Minho shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m a businessman.”

As much as Taemin wanted to scoff at his answer, he just ended up pursing his lips, because he couldn’t argue with that. Not only was this man smooth, but Taemin could totally see it. Horrible, _horrible_ coffee named the _love potion_ selling out like hotcakes. He had for a moment let it slip his mind why Minho was so successful. It wasn’t because he was born as an heir to a conglomerate. It was because he was a skilled, brazen, and opportunistic businessman.

“Let’s catch a movie,” Minho said, looking at his phone for showtimes, “It’s been ages since I’ve been to the cinema.”

And there they were, seated side by side in the mall’s movie theater, watching some kiddy animated shit which Taemin slept through entirely, despite the loud shouts and fussy crying of the children in the theater. When he stirred awake, it was almost ending and he glanced at his side, finding Minho quite engrossed, slowly eating popcorn. Taemin reached for some too and watched the last twenty minutes of the movie, not quite understanding why a baby had such a deep voice and why it wore a fucking suit. Minho really did have some weird taste in movies.

They sat through the credits, watching the theater empty and Taemin asked, curious, “Why did you choose this one?”

“Jonghyun…” Minho cleared his throat, “Suggested I watch it.”

It took a couple of minutes for Taemin to understand and he broke into a fit of laughter.

Minho was embarrassed, “He’s a little piece of shit.”

“Damn,” Taemin calmed down, “Now I regret sleeping through it.”

Minho cleared his throat, getting up, “Let’s get some dinner before heading back.”

They walked out and Minho checked his phone because it kept vibrating and he clicked his tongue, picking up the call that had suddenly interrupted the messages he was reading and Taemin caught the caller ID before Minho had put it to his ear. It was Jonghyun. 

The theater exit led them to the second level of the mall and they took the escalator to reach the food court on the fourth. Taemin was walking a step behind him, losing interest in the conversation Minho was having– a rather heated one about the little escape stunt Minho had pulled and had ignored Jonghyun’s calls all day. He also heard something about Jonghyun reporting his antics to Minho’s father and Minho started convincing him– and soon the conversation flowed to some appointments Jonghyun had canceled– after which Taemin just totally tuned out. They were circling the third level, Minho had taken the longer route to the next escalator, being engaged in his call and Taemin just silently followed him, his eyes on the surroundings. 

“Great,” He whispered to himself apathetically, his eyes settling on an anomaly in their surroundings. Someone was dressed very similarly to the only spectator in the theater who had come alone and had sat a couple of rows behind them– wearing a baseball jacket and motorcycle gloves and now that Taemin was looking carefully, he had an obvious bump on the side of their waist, hidden under his jacket. Talk about being conspicuous. But this man wasn’t the same guy as the one he had spotted exiting the theater behind them. He put on his Ray Bans and using the common attire he filtered out his surroundings and spotted a dozen of such men– discreetly heading towards the fourth level after having guessed where Minho was heading to.

Taemin stepped onto the escalator behind Minho, his Ray Ban hidden gaze upon the men that were gathering on the third floor. Before those men could take the escalator to the 4th level as well, Taemin passed Minho swiftly, covering the rest of the steps in a leap and broke the glass of the fire alarm that was right next to the escalator and pulled it, releasing a shrill, resonating sound. Announcement and chaos filled the air and Minho lowered his phone as he stepped out from the escalator, confused at everything– at the way Taemin caught his arm and kept him steady through the evacuating crowd before he whispered, “There’s no fire.”

“Then what–” Minho stopped short when he noticed men step onto the floor from the escalator on other side, struggling to get off from it, due to the clamoring crowd, but nevertheless succeeding as the crowd dissipated, pulling out guns the moment the last of the crowd had exited the floor.

Taemin stepped in front of Minho and took out his own gun, cocking it before he aimed and shot without any hesitation– his bullets hitting their targets precisely despite them being on the other side of the floor. The men dropped audibly against his silent shots and he turned when he was sure they were down for good, sighing as he aimed his gun at Minho instead.

Minho froze, eyes wide in shock, slowly shifting to glance at the gun and then at Taemin’s humorless face… and before he could have asked anything, Taemin shifted the gun slightly and pulled the trigger thrice. 

Minho flinched, closing his eyes but opening them a few seconds later, turning to the sound of a tumble. There were three men tumbling down the halted escalator behind him. He turned back, finding Taemin placing his gun back in his holster.

“Can Mr. Kim clean this up? I really just want to get out of here.”

Minho blinked, putting his ear back to the phone, “Uh… Jonghyun–”

_“I heard. I pinged your phone for your location, backup is on its way. Get out of there.”_

Taemin could hear Jonghyun’s voice and he sighed, pulling Minho’s mask up for him before fixing his own and stepped down the stopped escalator, gingerly avoiding the fallen men and waiting for Minho to come down. Minho snapped out of it and followed him quietly, a bit stunned at what had just transpired. When they had reached the first level, he pulled his mask down and asked slowly, “Are they dead?”

“I wish they were,” Taemin answered, lowering his mask as well, “Soft, soluble bullets. Less impact and they do not penetrate flesh but do hurt the skin, the chemical only renders them immediately unconscious due to the smell and painful, burning sensation.” He looked at him, “They’ll wake up in about 6 hours.”

“Another perk of being in your field?” Minho asked, smiling a little.

“Does it beat _you_?” Taemin raised a brow, smiling teasingly as they finally stepped out of the mall, into the now emptied compound, save for Arc bodyguards, and Minho’s car parked right in front.

“You temme,” Minho whispered, heading towards the car.

Taemin got the door for him before he got in beside the driver, his gaze meeting Minho’s through the rearview mirror.

“ _No_ ,” He mouthed, and Minho turned away with an unabashed smile to glance outside the window, and Taemin swore it was one of the most charming smiles he had seen on him.

* * *

  
  


Back at Minho’s suite, Jonghyun was pacing in front of Minho who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching him– waiting for him to burst. Taemin was sitting on the adjacent single-seater, seeming unconcerned as he played on his phone, but truth be told, he was alert for when Jonghyun would explode, because then he’d get to know who was the person aiming for Minho’s life– the _other_ person aiming for Minho’s life.

“This was the third attempt this month! And twice in consecutive days!” Jonghyun finally exclaimed angrily, halting and folding his arms, “I told you to lie low for a couple of days _at least_. So we could trace these attacks… we finally had a lead with the tampered car–”

“So who is it?” Taemin was the one who interrupted him, getting impatient, “I mean… do you have any suspects based on this lead of yours?”

Jonghyun’s anger calmed a bit at Taemin’s question because at least _someone_ was asking the questions. The actual person whose life was in danger was the one least bothered. He glared at Minho who ushered him to answer and Jonghyun sighed, “Each attack on Mr. Choi is so different from the others, it almost felt like it’s not just one but many people– but the timing of each suggests it _can’t_ be so many people… so I started to look at it differently– maybe a single person hired these various assassins to get the job done. I analyzed the similarities between the assassins themselves– their MOs, their past victims, and I finally found something common. _Eden_.” He paused, “And as I suspected, each attack traced back to Eden. It’s an assassination market. People bet on _when_ a certain person would die and that incentivizes assassins to kill the said person on the day betted on because they would be in total control of the action and would reap immense profits by betting themselves." He sighed, "And hence that explains the various assassins after you, Mr. Choi. You have _many_ bets going on you in that market.”

Taemin knew about the existence of such a market but he pretended like he didn’t… but Minho’s eyes widened, “So… people don’t even need to _pay_ to get me killed? They just say hey, I bet Choi Minho will probably die this Friday and then all of them bet on that date, and then assassins come to kill me to win the betting money?”

“It’s convenient for people who don’t want to get their hands dirty by doing it themselves or hiring an assassin directly.” Jonghyun shrugged, “It’s hard to trace back the bet and criminalize the actual person who wanted you dead. But, it’s not _free_. The one who starts the bet with your name has to deposit some cash as a starting bet, as an incentive to attract many hitmen… and I’m sure it’s not bus money. So it’s highly probable the one who's behind all of this is someone part of your elite circle.”

Minho’s face had distorted, “Makes me feel sick that my life has just become some gambling game for people.”

“That’s exactly why I told you to sit tight here!” Jonghyun exclaimed, “Until we figured out a way to close it down– or at least take the bounties off your head. You are a walking target– and _no_ – wearing a mask and those glasses do nothing for trained assassins who know other ways to recognize you.”

Minho sighed exasperatedly, simmering down, “Fine.”

“And that is also why you cannot be at the auction and gala tomorrow night.”

Minho straightened up, getting riled up again. This was probably what Jonghyun and he had been arguing over since the past days. Taemin had honestly heard enough of it. They were talking about the same over the phone when they were at the mall.

“I’m not missing it! The whole year, _I_ promoted the Art Festival, put in so much money to gather the paintings for the auction. I’m the host and the auctioneer–”

“I know it’s for a good cause and you put in the effort, but the show has to go on without you, Mr. Choi. I have already worked things up with your secretary and we will make sure to make you the star even in your absence.”

“But–”

“Everyone you have done business with will be there. And didn’t I already mention this?” Jonghyun sighed in annoyance, “That it’s no mystery it's one of them who put your name on _Eden_ so you being there is very dangerous.”

“I have Taemin!”

“And if you plan to keep him,” Jonghyun answered his childish argument, “Don’t test his patience. Everyone has their limits. We finally got a good guy and I’m not losing him because you cannot keep your butt out of the limelight.”

“Ouch.” Minho muttered, “ _Fine_ , I’m not going anywhere until you beg me to come out.”

Taemin had been barely repressing his laughter but he snorted when Minho looked at him with an irritated pout.

“And Taemin,” Jonghyun turned to him, “Just stay here until this is sorted out.”

“What…?” Taemin’s cheer faded as he looked at Jonghyun.

“He’s whipped for you, I’m just taking advantage of that for our greater good.” Jonghyun picked up his blazer from the sofa and put it on, “I can get you your stuff from your place if you want. Just text me the location and the passcode and whatever you need from your house.”

Taemin sighed, resting back defeatedly, “Thanks, but I’ll manage.”

“Okay.” 

The moment Jonghyun had left, Minho shifted to the edge of the sofa, closer to the one Taemin was sitting in, “It’s the truth,” He said with a smirk, “I _am_ whipped for you.”

“Really?” Taemin smiled slightly in amusement, pretending to be surprised, “How much?”

“You’ll find out,” Minho took Taemin’s hand that was resting on the armrest and entwined their fingers, “Soon.”

Taemin glanced at their joined hands in interest, “Doesn’t it ring a bell?” He asked, raising his gaze to meet Minho’s, “Someone who is both part of your elite circle and has considerable knowledge of underworld organizations?”

Minho raised his brows, “My beloved cousin is still on your radar.” He let out a chuckle in disbelief, “C’mon, it’s not him.” 

“You are probably underestimating your _beloved_ cousin.”

Minho hummed in thought, “If it’s Jinki, Jonghyun will get to him. Eventually, at least.” He reached for Taemin’s belt and fidgeted with it, “His gadgets are almost as cool as yours. And he’s got my dad’s name and countless resources backing him up to pull all the favors. Be rest assured.”

“I am,” Taemin gently jerked off Minho’s hold from his belt buckle, “But are you?”

Minho rested back, his smile roguish because he knew what effect his next words would have on Taemin, “As long as I have you.”

Taemin winced, kicking Minho in the shin before he got up to grab something to drink.

Minho’s groan turned into laughter, “C’mon, I know you like it.”

“Like _what_ exactly?” Taemin picked the nearest bottle of alcohol in his reach– the wine– from the minibar.

Minho had followed him and wound his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder, “Me being _hopelessly_ and _helplessly_ whipped for you.”

“But, the question is...” Taemin played with his drink, “Do I like it enough?”

“Hmm?”

“To stay,” Taemin took a sip, “I’m a substitute bodyguard, after all.”

Minho furrowed his brows in confusion, “You said I can request you permanently.”

“Are you sure you want that, Mr. Choi?”

“Why, of course.”

Taemin placed his glass down and turned in his embrace, meeting his eyes, “Hmm, you’ll have to bear the consequences then.”

“Of what?”

“Of being whipped for me.” Taemin pointed his fingers into a gun and pressed it under Minho’s chin, his eyes cold and his smile dry, “It’s going to leave you hopeless and helpless indeed.”

Minho smiled mischievously before he gently removed Taemin’s hand from under his chin and kissed it, “I’ll bear everything. Even death.”

“Oh, _really_?” Taemin whispered, his eyes glazing with intrigue and his smile widening.

Minho leaned closer, breathing into his ear, “Try me.” He leaned back before leaning in to kiss Taemin but his phone vibrated in his pocket, making him click his tongue in annoyance. Taemin pulled it out for him and answered it before handing it over and pushing him away.

Minho sighed as he reluctantly put the phone to his ear and pouted before he headed towards his study, his tone changing as the call progressed.

Taemin picked up his drink and leaned against the counter, eyes on Minho who had left the door of his study open. The call was on speaker now and Taemin watched him patiently understand what his secretary was frantically explaining while he switched on his computer.

Taemin pulled out his phone too, switching to his code and compressed it for transfer as he finished his drink. He began the transfer and waited for it to be done as he played with the last sip in his glass, whirling it as he waited for the system prompt.

_remote_ pilot injection complete  
AMV7491 ECU_nav replaced with null_nav  
AMV7491 ECU_sys ready for visual input  
Press ‘start’ to initiate capture_  
  


Taemin finished up his drink after reading the flashing messages and looked at Minho tensely going over his emails, still on call.

“You haven’t chosen wisely, Mr. Choi,” He hummed, his lips curving up in sly mirth, “Your life is now mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the movie they watched is boss baby lol. also this now has 8 chapters instead of 7 !! so 2 more to go :>  
> thank you so much for reading and the lovely comments!! they mean the world to me ♡♡♡♡♡


	7. Dice With Death

  
  


Taemin did not have much to do while Minho took care of the issue at work. After he had gotten off the call with his secretary, he was calling a lot of other people– managers, the clients, the warehouse. There was a miscommunication on the production deadline and Taemin didn’t bother to listen to the rest as he loitered around Minho’s study, watching Minho patiently try to convince whoever it was on the other side of the phone to proceed with the miscommunicated timeline as everything else was following that schedule. 

Taemin had eventually shifted to the bedroom, charging his phone with the charger Minho always left plugged in near his bedside table, while he rechecked the Arc database to make sure his cover was intact. He had lain down comfortably as he continued to scroll through the notifications triggered by Arc’s system and all the communication regarding employee and client assignment... and only noticed how late it was when Minho dropped on the bed beside him. Taemin changed the screen of his phone to one of the games he played quickly, starting on the next level as he commented without turning, “That took a while.”

“Tell me about it.” Minho sighed as he laid down as well, “Hey, Taemin?”

“Hmm?” 

“Wanna cuddle?”

Taemin’s game beeped loudly as he had missed his shot at Minho’s little question and failed the level, “Fuck no.”

“Aw, please?”

Taemin could picture Minho’s pout and pleading eyes just from his voice and he was slightly irritated because he found himself giving in even if he hadn’t directly seen them, “Fine.” He lifted his arm so Minho could wind his arms around him and snuggle closer. Minho took a deep, relaxed breath as he nuzzled into Taemin and Taemin switched off his phone, “You’re clingier than usual, what’s wrong?”

“It’s happened a bunch of times so I thought I’d be used to it…” Minho started, his voice muffled, “But it freaks me out the same every time.”

“What freaks you out?” Taemin asked softly.

“Being a hitman’s target.”

Taemin turned in his embrace, facing Minho, “See? You are far from being _rest assured_.” He ran his finger down Minho’s cheek, as he thoughtfully whispered nonchalantly, “But don’t worry. You won’t be anyone’s target quite soon.” He paused, changing his tone, “Didn’t you say Mr. Kim will sort it for you?” 

“That he will,” Minho opened his eyes, smiling slightly, “But I’ll have to admit, being targetted for murder’s been more exhilarating than scary ever since I got you. You look so hot with a gun.” He hummed in thought, “Wanna go on a date to my country club? I think it has got shooting ranges.”

“No, princess.” Taemin closed his eyes, “You are staying in your tower.”

“Okay… then let me kiss you.”

Taemin opened his eyes, which were glinting with amusement, “Kiss me at your own risk, Mr. Choi. Because if you do, I am not going to stop at just that.”

Minho smirked, leaning in as he whispered, “I was kinda hoping you’d say that.”

* * *

  
  
  


“This sucks big time.” Minho stretched as he spun on his revolving chair. He had been in his study since early morning, eating his meals at his desk, even taking his phone into the washroom. There were many people to apologize and pacify… not to mention all the meetings back to back. 

Taemin was glad the whole thing about doubling as Minho’s secretary had been a joke because what he had been watching from morning to evening was _insane_. 

“Because of yesterday's screw up,” Minho rested back in his chair with a sigh, “I had to fucking attend so many meetings. I have never attended these many even in a _month_."

Taemin who was sitting comfortably on the sofa in Minho’s study, his legs crossed on the coffee table, looked up from his phone, “Are you done then?”

Minho got up and jerked his feet to get rid of the numbness, “With meetings? Yeah. Paperwork? Not quite. Just waiting on it while my secretary organizes stuff.”

“Oh… that really does suck.” Taemin got back to his phone, “You can’t go to the gala then.”

Minho raised his brows in surprise, understanding what Taemin was suggesting, “Jonghyun’s gonna flip.”

“Do you care?”

Minho chuckled, “Not at all. I enjoy seeing him lose it, as a matter of fact.”

“Then,” Taemin pulled his legs off the table before getting up, smirking, “I guess we are both in for a treat.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Minho had gotten a headstart on getting dressed as he was the host and auctioneer and had been carefully fixing his bow tie in front of his dressing table when Taemin had sauntered out from the walk-in closet, holding a black, sequined blazer which he placed on the bed before joining his side, grabbing the bottle of hair gel.

“Wow,” Minho whispered, his eyes on what Taemin had chosen to dress in for the night. He had stocked clothes for him here too which Taemin had promptly ignored whenever he stayed over, but today he was dressed in clothes Minho had bought for him. It was a black sheer shirt paired with leather pants and boots. The shirt left nothing to the imagination as Taemin had worn nothing inside. It was a perfect fit, the soft georgette clung to his lean muscles, which went amiss in his usual clothes. 

Taemin hadn’t bothered to style his hair all the way, he left it at an untidy parting and grabbed his belt, smirking as he put it on, meeting Minho’s shameless gaze through the mirror.

“On second thought,” Minho started, “How about we just stay home?”

Taemin walked away, grabbing his blazer and putting it on before inserting the Bluetooth piece in his ear, “Says the host and auctioneer? What about the _millions_ you spent for this night?”

“I’d spend _billions_ more for just a night of you and me.” Minho smirked, leaning against the dressing table, “What say?”

“I am tempted,” Taemin approached him, pulling him closer by his bow tie, “But it’d be a shame to undress you before your glamor serves its purpose.”

“Let’s meet halfway,” Minho wound his arms around him, leaning in to whisper into his ear, “Fuck the gala, we leave after the auction.”

Taemin fixed the bow tie that he had ruined awfully slowly, aware of Minho’s gaze and enjoying it, before he finally answered, “Yes, _boss_.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Minho offered to drive when he noticed the navigation of the Audi was broken since Taemin didn’t know the way around. They had swiftly driven out before any of the staff could get the word to Jonghyun and he’d block their way with a horde of Arc bodyguards. 

“We both do have navigation apps in our phones,” Taemin pointed out when they were out of the neighborhood. Minho had been in excited haste to get out of the hotel and had switched with Taemin instead of doing the logical. “So I could have still driven us.”

“Oh, right.” Minho laughed, “Do you wanna switch?”

“Maybe later,” Taemin hummed, resting back, “Let’s see how good of a driver you are.”

“I’m pretty good,” Minho followed the directions to the highway, making a turn without slowing down and Taemin looked at him questionably after straightening up from that jerk, and Minho muttered _sorry_ before he laughed, “But slightly rash to the likes of others.”

Taemin paid more attention to his driving after those words and noticed that he used the accelerator too eagerly. As they merged onto the highway, Taemin understood the reason Minho was always driven around by others. Jonghyun would have been losing his shit had he been in the passenger seat with Minho at the wheel, and perhaps, he had experienced that once upon a time, hence the requirements of the Arc bodyguard hired for Minho’s profile had been a _patient and responsible driver, preferably with a commercial license_. The reckless way Minho had pulled the parking brake that one time made sense now, seeing that Minho was, quite contrary to his claims, not just slightly rash, but a reckless driver _overall_.

Taemin wasn’t fazed by his driving but saw him lose control of the steering wheel and grabbed it, turning it swiftly to avoid crashing into the car Minho had been trying to overtake and let go when they were in the clear. He sighed as he commented, “Someone put in a lot of effort, bidding on you on Eden. All they had to do was set you loose.”

Minho laughed, speeding up again after the hiccup, “I know right? I am a dead man walking.”

“Dead man walking, huh,” Taemin softly repeated to himself, smirking as he turned up the stereo. _That you are._

* * *

  
  
  


Since everyone had been informed that Minho wouldn’t be attending the event, there was a surprised buzz when Minho had walked into the banquet hall where the auction was about to begin. They had taken a different entrance, through the elevators of the parking lot, avoiding the red carpet and the reporters that were filming and interviewing every guest.

Taemin let Minho walk towards the stage while he mingled into the crowd, watching Minho take back his role of the auctioneer from the one who had been hired as his substitute for the night. Everyone had taken a seat as the auction was starting and Taemin looked around the premises, taking a winding path towards the stage and stood close to it, concealing his presence amongst the other staff who would be helping Minho announce and showcase pieces of artwork that were part of the auction.

The auction was surprisingly rather engaging, unlike Taemin’s expectations of it being rather bland and it was all because of Minho’s eloquence and humor. It was going smoothly and the third piece of the collection had just been successfully auctioned away when Taemin noticed an anomaly in the surroundings. 

He put on his Ray-Bans and slowly withdrew from around the stage to get a better look, focusing the augmented vision on the balconies overlooking the hall. He sighed, “Fucking great.”

Taemin got into the elevator and his phone vibrated in his pocket the moment he had stepped out onto the second level.

He pressed a button on his earpiece and Jonghyun’s irate voice poured out, making him flinch slightly.

_“Why do I see Mr. Choi on live TV?”_

“Because he is on live TV?” Taemin supplied as he walked across the empty corridor, towards the curtains at the end.

Taemin heard Jonghyun curse in irritation at his answer before he moved on, _“It was for a fraction of a second but I swear I saw a laser dot on his face–”_

“Yes, I’m on it.” Taemin had reached the curtains and pulled them, grabbing the rifle that was aiming at the stage and with the rifle, out came a man, stumbling over the curtain, his hold on the gun loosening with his fall. Taemin wasted no time and slammed the back of the rifle on the guy’s head before he could get up. He sighed, watching him instantly lose consciousness, bleeding out. He disarmed the rifle and broke the mechanism before discarding it and turned to look at the stage, where Minho was excitedly introducing the next piece of the auction.

_“There is back-up on the way, but I want you to confirm, do you have the situation under control?”_

Taemin changed his vision mode and stopped short, finding three _blue_ dots flickering on Minho’s body. Something clicked in his mind and he immediately scoured the attendance below, finding a familiar face in the seated crowd that hadn’t been present before– _Lee Jinki_. 

Jinki had looked up in his direction right then... as if he had known Taemin to be there. He rested back in his seat as he kept his eyes on Taemin, his lips curving up arrogantly.

“Fuck,” Taemin looked away in irritation and instead followed the direction of the blue dots to the level above. He clicked his tongue and turned, breaking out into a run as he took the stairs to the third floor, landing on the level within seconds, taking a glance around the empty floor before he headed towards the balustrade, glancing at Minho, who was moving about as he talked, and the laser dots followed, becoming focussed as the pattern of Minho’s movement became stable. 

_“Taemin?”_

“A minute, please,” Taemin muttered, as he pulled out his gun from the holster at his waist and aimed after activating the silencer, taking three quick shots, each about 45 degrees apart and the laser dots on Minho’s body vanished one by one. 

He lowered his gun as he glanced over the premises once more. The shooter on the level below was an amateur judging from his low skill and flashy choice of weapon which was clearly different from the three concealed, adaptive rifles that had been aimed at Minho. Adaptive rifles that had invisible, blue X-ray light, a well-known weapon in _Legacy’s_ gameplay, which now apparently was real as well. When he remembered in which level of the game these rifles made an appearance, he realized one more thing, judging from the circumference of the railing… that he was standing in the spot of the _fourth_ rifle that would’ve covered the entire rounding, just like in the game… and it was right then that he felt a sharp poke to the back of his head.

It was also at the same time that Minho had casually glanced up and his eyes had caught Taemin… and the suave smile of his faded slightly on noticing a gun to Taemin’s head. He had gone silent abruptly and the crowd had started murmuring in confusion. 

“Weapon down!” The guy behind Taemin whispered harshly, pressing his rifle into his head and Taemin let out a sigh before he turned around, the masked shooter now aiming the gun to his forehead.

“I said–”

Taemin had yanked the rifle away with his free hand and again, all he had to do was slam the back of the rifle on his head to throw the shooter off. But this time, the shooter was strong and experienced and he lunged at Taemin, who dodged him neatly before landing a blow, sending him almost over the balustrade. He caught him by the hem of his jacket and pulled him away from falling over and creating a scene. He threw him to the other side as he quickly raised his gun. The guy was panting, obviously in pain but gathered himself up, pulling out a revolver from the holster on his ankle and was about to pull the trigger but two shots hit him in the chest instead, making him drop his weapon and fall back soundlessly as he bled out.

Taemin lowered his gun and returned it to his holster before disarming the rifle, which was _exactly_ modeled according to the video game, proving his suspicions. He picked up the guy’s gun and did the same, turning around as he did and glancing at Minho, who had proceeded with the event. When their gazes met a couple of minutes later, Minho raised his brows, impressed, and turned back to the oblivious crowd, his smile back to its usual charm as he carried on.

Taemin ended up smiling to himself at Minho’s small gesture, leaning at the balustrade as he spun the empty pistol around his finger, eyes shifting to Jinki who had just made a bid.

_“Is your minute up yet?”_

“Situation is under control.” Taemin answered, spotting Arc bodyguards silently entering and blending in, “I used a real gun, your guys have a lot to clean up.”

_“Okay.”_ Jonghyun sighed. _“Get him out of there at the midway break. It wasn’t just me who saw the laser dot on him. The media is blowing up. Take him to your apartment, the hotel will be crowded with reporters soon.”_

Taemin straightened up, “Got it.”

* * *

  
  
  


Minho was at the cocktail bar, secluded from the rest, and surrounded by a perimeter of Arc bodyguards. Taemin noticed Jinki was with him from the level above when he did a quick check of the surroundings again for good measure, passing by the men who had started cleaning up behind him. 

Minho hadn’t touched his drink yet and was eating one of the appetizers, while Jinki had started on his drink, and turned, spotting Taemin walking through the perimeter of the bodyguards.

“Good work again,” He commented, raising his glass before finishing the drink. He patted Taemin’s shoulder, passing him by, “You kept someone from winning millions today.”

Taemin blinked, slightly taken aback, his gaze meeting Minho’s whose left cheek was stuffed with food and he raised his brows in question to Taemin’s perturbed gaze. “He’s talking about the _Legacy_ inspired artwork he put up for auction on behalf of C-ware. I called the auction off.”

“ _Right_.” Taemin let out a breath, “Talk to him about the _Legacy_ inspired rifles the shooters had the next time you meet him.”

“Legacy inspired _rifles_?” Minho’s eyes lit up, “Can I see?”

“No. We’re leaving.” Taemin stepped forward, taking the drink Minho was just about to pick up, and downed it in one go, “You’re driving.”

“Rough night?” Minho cocked a brow, getting up and buttoning up his suit.

Taemin leaned forward on the excuse of returning the glass to the counter, his lips barely a centimeter from Minho’s, before he shifted just the slight to whisper in his ear, “Nothing you cannot fix.”

Minho raised both his brows, watching Taemin pick up another cocktail glass, “And I thought I was the impatient one.”

“You are.” Taemin answered, this time taking a sip of his drink tastefully, “My apartment is only ten minutes away, how about you take me home through a scenic route?”

“I’ll take you to the moon and back,” Minho shifted closer, leaning at the counter and folding his arms, “If I get to take you home at the end of it. A scenic route is nothing in comparison to that.”

Taemin snorted into his drink, but ended up coughing, his throat and nose stinging at the alcohol that had slipped into his system suddenly, “Fuck you.” He said, between his coughs, grabbing tissues.

“You will,” Minho wiped the side of his lips with his sleeve, smirking, “ _Patience_ , babe.”

* * *

  
  


Minho’s fingers were impatient, moving inside Taemin’s shirt as Taemin fisted his collar, kissing him ravenously. Minho had him pinned to the wall; they had come crashing into his room, Taemin having kissed him the moment they had entered the apartment.

Minho’s hands finally settled on the sides of his waist and his lips trailed from Taemin’s lips down to his Adam’s apple and then to his collarbones, before he shifted his hands to his hips and picked him up, turning immediately towards the bed. He caught Taemin’s swollen lips in a kiss again and stumbled on the way– Taemin was a bit heavier than he had expected.

Taemin laughed when Minho cursed as they crashed onto the bed and pulled him into a kiss by the collar, cutting his embarrassed grumbling off, and the slight frown between Minho’s brows vanished as he slowly opened more buttons on Taemin’s shirt. He suckled on his neck, leaving marks and Taemin’s hand grabbed Minho by the hair, his breathing erratic when Minho’s lips followed the trail of his fingers, that were now grazing his bare chest with every button he had opened, down to the waistband of his briefs that were peeking out slightly from his pants.

“Did I tell you…” Minho stopped to whisper, his fingers working on taking off Taemin’s belt, “How sexy you look today?”

“Sexier than in your dreams?” Taemin’s lips curved up playfully and Minho shifted forward, kissing him. 

“ _Way_ sexier than in my dreams,” Minho whispered against his lips, his hand gliding under Taemin’s pants and Taemin bit Minho’s lip, yanking away Minho’s hand from under his pants, straightening up and pushing Minho down instead.

Minho chuckled in surprise as Taemin pinned his wrists to the bed after straddling him and kissed him. Minho felt Taemin reluctantly break away and he looked at him in hazy confusion, sitting up as he watched Taemin reach for his ankle and pull out a small pistol.

“Didn’t you say,” Taemin whispered breathlessly, “I look hot with a gun?” He spun the pistol around his finger before he quickly aimed the pistol under Minho’s chin.

“You do,” Minho whispered as he looked from the aimed pistol to Taemin, at the way his eyes glinted with dangerous mirth, “But what–”

Taemin shushed him, his lips curling smugly, “See you in your dreams, Mr. Choi.” 

Minho’s eyes widened fearfully, “Tae–”

He pulled the trigger and with that delicate click of the gun, Minho flinched in pain, his disoriented and delayed effort to stop Taemin forgotten as he reached for the searingly painful spot on his neck. His hands trembled when he saw his bloodstained fingers and his lips moved but he could barely let out a sound. He strenuously raised his gaze, looking at Taemin with terror and perplexion, but his eyes soon drooped shut, his body losing vigor as he fell back on the bed. 

Taemin let his arrhythmic breathing calm as he watched the last spurts of movement leave Minho’s body... at the trickle of blood running down Minho’s neck and staining the sheets. He got off him, securing the gun at his waist as he glanced again at Minho’s motionless figure in victory, his eyes shifting to the bowtie he had stripped Minho of earlier, fallen on the floor.

“It is time now,” Taemin whispered, picking up the bowtie, his smile sinister, “To play dice with death.”


	8. Loved to Death

Minho stirred awake, incoherent sounds of people speaking filling his ears. He opened his eyes slowly, the room was fairly dim and he looked around, unable to recognize the decor. His eyes fell on the single recliner a little distance away, part of the set arranged in front of the blaring TV which was the source of the noise in the room. Seated in the recliner was Taemin, yawning as he watched the news. 

Minho tried to get up but a loud clang followed by the sharp pain of restraint around his wrist made him realize his left hand was cuffed to the bed. The very next moment, he also felt the slight stinging under his chin, which was now neatly bandaged.

“Finally, you are awake.” 

Minho turned to Taemin, sitting up with a little struggle, his hand awkwardly chained to the bed. Taemin was watching him instead of the TV and got up after a few seconds, approaching him. He was dressed rather casually, in jeans and a striped t-shirt, his eyes glinting with amusement as he pursed his lips to suppress the smug way they were beginning to curve up.

Minho cleared his throat to rid it of its hoarseness, smirking as he yanked his left hand slightly, his action releasing a faint clanging, “If you wanted to try this… all you had to do was _ask_ , babe.”

“I had no such intentions...” Taemin answered, letting his playful smile out as he lifted Minho’s face further by the chin, caressing his cheek before running his thumb over his lips, “But seeing you like this, I am overly tempted.”

Minho softly kissed Taemin’s thumb, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Taemin bent down slightly, his eyes on Minho’s parted lips, their faces merely centimeters apart… and Minho leaned forward, attempting to do away the distance but Taemin snickered, straightening up as he placed a finger on his lips, “You have distracted me enough.”

He walked away, grabbing a denim jacket from the recliner and putting it on before he put on the rest of the things he had left there– a cap and a mask. He hadn’t put on the mask all the way and instead grabbed a bag from behind the recliner and walked to the bed again, emptying the entire contents onto the bed and Minho looked at all the snacks and drinks that were now littering the bed.

“There’s a bedpan right there.” Taemin pointed to the space between the bed and the side table and Minho followed his finger before looking back at Taemin, who threw a roll of toilet paper on the bed as well, followed by a first-aid box. “It’s just a cut. The needle was big so you bled a little. Nothing serious, just keep it clean.”

“Taemin– what–”

“Goodbye,” Taemin cut him off, putting on his Ray-Bans, “ _Minho_.”

Minho blinked in shock, watching him leave, the door shutting, and the lock clicking. He sighed, still confused, and yanked at the cuffs again, fidgeting with them before something coming from the TV made him turn towards it, wide-eyed.

_...to avoid a truck. The CCTV footage has revealed Choi Minho to be in the car accompanied by a bodyguard. Bodies recovered this morning have been severely damaged by the explosion caused when the car fell off the overpass. Considering the previous attacks on Choi, this accident could also be a murder attempt. The investigation is ongoing and neither the police nor a representative of CK has commented…_

Minho tuned out the words coming from the news anchor as he rested back against the headboard, sighing as he read the news flash below over and over again. 

**_CHOI MINHO DIES IN ROAD ACCIDENT_ **

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself, letting out a chuckle that was a mix of amusement and disbelief, “ _Fuck_.”

* * *

  
  


“Please stop pacing. It’s making me dizzy.”

Jonghyun stopped, turning to the man seated at Minho’s desk, one eyebrow raised in annoyance, but the rest of his face gave away how worried and exhausted he was.

“Mr. Lee–”

“Jonghyun, I told you a hundred– no a hundred and _one_ – times, to just call me Jinki.”

“That will not happen, Mr. Lee.” Jonghyun just shook his head, getting back to what he was intending to say earlier, “Will you be able to influence the police department–”

“I already have, just the way you have. It’s not going to be any different no matter who tries. Nothing can be done when there is nothing to be done, Jonghyun. There is no evidence–”

“That is _precisely_ why! How convenient is it that the bodies recovered are burnt to a degree that is not fit for forensic analysis?! I don’t buy that at all.”

“I did get that reinvestigated, had a personal contact on it and that’s the truth,” He took a deep breath, his voice was reluctant as he continued, “The bodies are severely burnt and couldn’t even be recovered as a whole. Half of the remains crumbled in transit. The CCTV footage is untampered and crystal clear.”

“But it’s too early to call it an accident and close the case,” Jonghyun finally sat down, “I have my team on it but…”

“It doesn’t help when everyone is certain that it’s an accident… or that Minho is dead.”

“He might not be.” Jonghyun’s expression was grave.

“It’s been over a week… if this was a ruse or a kidnapping or whatever, we would’ve been contacted by now by the perpetrator.” Jinki got up from Minho’s seat, “Uncle has come to terms with it… so have I… you must too. He’s gone.” He walked to the door, “Take a few days off, Jonghyun. You desperately need the rest.”

Jonghyun sighed in frustration, watching him leave, and grabbed the phone that had started vibrating in his pocket. He took a deep breath, not wanting to burst on Astral’s hotel manager that was calling him. “Yes?”

“Sir, you had asked me to keep you updated about anything unusual… but I’m not sure if this is relevant–”

“It made you call me. That’s relevant enough.” Jonghyun got up hurriedly, leaving the cabin as well, “I’ll be there shortly.”

* * *

Jonghyun was standing in front of room 3004 with two of the hotel staff behind him, nervous as they exchanged glances when Jonghyun began inspecting the changed lock on the door. 

“Did we get this done?” Jonghyun asked, noticing that though it looked exactly like the digital locks that they had on every room, it was far from digital. It required a unique, physical key– or _keys_ – as the lock was a complex one that cannot be picked by simple tools or thieving techniques. It looked exactly like something that would be available exclusively in an illegal market.

“No, Sir.”

“So the guest hasn’t checked out yet?”

“No. He was supposed to today but since he didn’t, we came to check on him and found… this. We knocked but there has been no answer.”

“When did he check-in?”

“Late on the 11th.”

“So a night before the accident…” Jonghyun sighed, “Whose name is this room booked under?”

“D.M Walking.” The staff responded, pausing before he added, “He… he had quite some luggage, Sir.”

Jonghyun turned to him, his brows a bit tensed. “Get the hotel evacuated.” He said, pulling out his phone, “We are breaking in.”

* * *

  
  


The door was broken down by Arc bodyguards but they couldn’t go further than a couple of steps as another door had been planted in the corridor leading up to the room. It was thick and equipped with another complex lock. Eventually, the team brought that down as well and Jonghyun entered first, his gun aimed… only to lower it, removing the gas mask from his face on finding _Minho_ irritably flipping channels on the TV, one hand chained to the headboard.

Jonghyun was astounded, his mouth moving yet no words coming out as he took in the scene before him.

“What’s that smell–” A bodyguard had whispered but immediately stopped, spotting Minho on the bed.

Minho switched off the TV and threw the remote on the bed. “What do you expect? I’ve been going in a pot for a week now.” 

Jonghyun finally found his voice, “Mr. Choi–”

“Took you long enough to get here.” He yanked at his chained hand, “I hope you got pliers.”

The hotel manager rushed in right then, wading through the Arc bodyguards, “Mr. Walking are you–” His eyes fell on Minho, “Mr– Mr. Choi?!”

“Walking?” Minho asked, raising his brows and Jonghyun explained, “The room was booked under the name _D.M. Walking._ ”

Minho’s confusion faded the very next moment and he burst into laughter, making everyone else in the room exchange glances, baffled.

“Do you happen to know a D.M. Walking, Mr. Choi?” The manager asked nervously, giving way to an Arc bodyguard who had hurried back with pliers and was now freeing Minho.

“Yeah, I do.” Minho sighed, his laughter calming, “It’s me, after all.” He got up, jerking his free hand in relief, smirking, “ _Dead Man Walking._ ”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“Mr. Lee…” Jonghyun spoke in an alarming tone when Jinki just wouldn’t stop laughing, watching the news. “It’s not funny.”

“It is.” It was Minho who answered, stepping out of his room, fresh from a shower and flopping down on the couch beside Jinki, taking a deep breath of relaxation.

“Did you pull this, cousin?” Jinki asked, “To give your old man a scare? I know you like mischief but this was cruel.”

“It was.” Minho said, closing his eyes, “But unfortunately, it wasn’t me behind this.”

“Then who was?”

“Someone as beautiful as he is cruel.” Minho straightened up, grabbing a cigarette from the coffee table, lighting it up right away. He took a drawl before turning to Jonghyun, “And you are _not_ going after him.”

“Then,” Jonghyun exploded, “Are we supposed to just let him go?!”

Minho smirked, letting out smoke, “I never said I was letting him go.”

* * *

  
  
  
  


_“I believe this is your first public appearance after the incident about two months ago.”_

_“Yes, I guess so. If you don’t count me coming in and out of the police station or to work. The media loves me a tad bit much, don’t you think?”_

_“Not just us. The whole nation does. It was a shock to hear the news of your death– the **false** news of your death. The investigation was kept rather secret and though some time has passed, it’s what everyone is still talking about.”_

_“I wouldn’t blame them. I, myself, am taken by this whole incident.”_

Taemin let out a chuckle at the roguish smile Minho had worn when speaking those words in his recent interview. He had just arrived at an event and was being interviewed by the media on the red carpet.

_“Rumors are going around saying you were held captive in your hotel and the abductor staged your death. But it doesn’t make much sense. What exactly happened? Were you tortured? Who do you think is behind all this?”_

_“Oh, don’t you guys know? Only one person is daring enough to pull this. My lover.”_

_“Mr. Choi–”_

_“Please excuse me. The event’s gonna start.”_

The screen flickered unnaturally and encrypted jargon-filled the TV for a brief few seconds, before decrypting to display the logo of _Elysian_.

Taemin took a sip from his beer, not even flinching at the cold metal that had been suddenly pressed to the back of his head. There was the sound of a click, the gun was ready to be fired, yet Taemin went on to take another sip from his drink.

“You aren’t running.”

Taemin turned slightly, looking up at the man who was holding him at gunpoint, dressed in a casual black suit and wearing a mask, a minute black badge pinned to the collar of his black shirt, the infamous stylized _E_ on it.

“It would be stupid of me to run from you,” Taemin answered with a devious curve of his lips, “Agent X9.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Taemin watched the scenery flashing by in the windows of the car and knocked on it with his ring, which was magnetic because the scenery in the window was disrupted at his touch.

“I will have that.” _Agent X9_ caught Taemin’s wrist, stripping him of all his rings.

“Impressive.” Taemin commented, “It is flawless. _Almost_.”

“You are not the only one good at playing with holograms. Controlling Choi Minho’s car remotely while having a hologram projected in his seat. It was ingenious… you tricked everyone, planted undeniable evidence in CCTV footage... but it was also stupid at the same time. You were assigned to _kill_ him, not save him from other hitmen and me.”

“There’s more fun in setting you off, _Kibum_.”

_Kibum_ pulled his mask down, taken aback, “So you have been digging around. It’s almost a shame you are a contract hitman and not a permanent gun for Elysian.”

Taemin hummed, “Your words imply I am going to be terminated.”

“That depends on the client.”

Taemin turned from the repetitive pattern of passing cars streaming in the windows, interested, “The person who wanted Choi Minho dead?”

“Yes.” Kibum relaxed, stripping himself of his cap as well, “In a way… you did give them what they wanted. For a week, at least. But you _did_ fail your mission… _and_ kept me from finishing it in your stead. We both know what that results in. Your termination, target reassignment, monetary compensation to the client. Reassignment is out of the picture because Choi Minho is no longer an attainable kill, all because of you. And, instead of monetary compensation, the client wants the privilege to decide what happens to you. Which has been granted as they are a valuable client. So, depending on the kind of interest you have piqued in them, you just might live... or die a death far more gruesome than a simple shot to the head.”

“Hmm.” Taemin rested back, smiling to himself in amusement, “By the way. The name’s Taemin.”

“Huh?”

“I know your name, it is only fair if you know mine.”

“I shall inform you again that as part of Elysian’s contractual system,” Kibum began to recite indifferently, “We do not require any information from the contractor– in this case– you, Agent A72. Our contract agents are anonymous and we do not demand nor maintain any identity information in our system at any particular point in time. The only information organization has on the contract agent is our system-generated alias and password that enables you to use Elysian’s database, and dummy bank account credentials to receive your payment.” Kibum paused for breath, “Hence, you cannot use this exchange to indict Elysian. Besides, this has been recorded in full and _you_ are responsible for your leak of information… _Taemin_.”

Taemin laughed, “Well, it was worth a try.”

* * *

  
  
  


Kibum led Taemin into a private lounge of a club and left him at the door, conveying that the _client_ was waiting for him inside. Taemin glanced casually around in the long corridor he was standing in and he didn’t need his Ray-Bans to ascertain the place was overrun by security– or to be precise, the _permanent guns_ under Elysian, that were colloquially referred to as the _X-Line_ , since their agent names started with X- to distinguish them from contract hitmen. Everyone had been wearing the coin-sized Elysian badges in the establishment– it seemed like an identity of sorts, black badges for employees, silver ones for the clients. There was probably a chip in it too, judging from the way entry into the premises was unmonitored physically at the entrance, but had embedded scanners in the door frames. 

Being a contract hitman, Taemin never needed to interact with anyone from Elysian or any of the clients. Matters were kept as anonymous as possible, communication as minimum as possible, and every exchange was completely virtual and untraceable. It was certainly a first, and highly intriguing, to witness Elysian’s physical presence. He would be lying if he said he had never been curious about how Elysian functioned so discreetly despite its fame.

Taemin pushed the door and entered the lounge, looking around the decor, his eyes gradually settling on the only occupied booth in the lounge and his lackadaisical steps came to a halt.

In one of the booths was a familiar man, dressed stately in a suit. Taemin’s eyes sparked with knowing, a little smirk beginning to form on his lips as the man’s presence had proved his suspicions right. He restrained his expression and began to walk again, making his steps more audible; and the man finally looked towards him, his unabashedly, eager eyes meeting Taemin’s.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Taemin said, his humorless eyes falling on the silver badge on the man’s suit coat, “ _Mr. Choi._ ”

Minho swirled his drink, his eyes now focussed on the liquid splashing against the glass walls, “The way you left me was not fancy at all.”

Taemin walked to the bar instead, removing his cap and pouring himself a drink. He heard the sound of Minho’s steps grow closer and noticed him lean against the counter. Taemin sipped on the whiskey, licking his lips tastefully, “Then, did you want to die by my hands?”

“I gladly would have.” Minho turned and leaned closer, placing his drink on the counter, “Didn’t I say I’ll bear every consequence?”

“Hmm,” Taemin placed his glass down as well, turning to face him, “I restrained myself from that pleasure for nothing, then.” He took off his bulky digital watch and Minho watched his fingers deftly dismantle it and before Minho could have registered it, Taemin was aiming a small gun that the watch had transformed into, at him. “But it’s not too late. I can still claim it.”

Minho stepped closer, gently holding Taemin’s wrist and guiding his aim to his forehead. “There would be nothing more I could wish for.” His smile was handsomely vain, “To be your undoing and the one sin you would regret till your last breath. Like that, you would have no choice but to keep me in your heart forever.”

At his words, Taemin pressed the gun to his forehead, eyes on Minho’s sly lips and he pulled the trigger.

Minho closed his eyes to the click and opened them when Taemin had removed the gun from his forehead and was molding it back into a watch.

“I choose my vices,” Taemin said softly, finishing his drink and turning to leave.

Minho grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer, locking him in his arms. Taemin had placed his hands on his shoulder to maintain distance and simpered on noticing the glint in Minho’s eyes. Masked in the mirth of them, was desperation.

“Then,” Minho whispered, “Choose me.”

Taemin shifted closer in his embrace, his right hand reaching back, his fingers grasping his neck and pulling him forward, leaving nothing but a breath between them. “If you haven’t yet realized… I do bad things.”

“And you do them well.” Minho breathed against his lips but Taemin had yanked at Minho’s hair slightly the moment their lips had touched, drawing him away.

“I do,” Taemin whispered with a breathless chuckle, “I especially did enjoy doing you.” He slowly let go of Minho, breaking from his embrace but Minho grasped his hand before he could get any further. He raised their joined hands to his lips, slowly kissing Taemin’s knuckles, his wanton gaze on him.

“Is this a provocation?” Taemin asked, bemused, his eyes glazing with want as well, watching Minho’s lips trace the shape of his hand and kiss his wrist next.

“Yes.” 

“It was a dangerous game that you played.” Taemin whispered, freeing his hand from Minho, “Well-played… but it’s _game over,_ Mr. Choi.”

Minho let out a confused whine and Taemin turned to leave, putting on his cap, “Listen to Jonghyun. Not all hitmen will find you charming.” 

“So ruthless,” Minho said exasperatedly and Taemin laughed, walking out the lounge.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Kibum was standing a little away from the door, passing on instructions to two more men, who he excused on spotting Taemin approach him. “Wait here.” He said to Taemin, signaling and about a dozen men made themselves apparent in the corridor.

“Hmm, don’t bother.” Taemin just walked past him, “But perchance you do get the order to terminate me… I’ll be right where you previously found me… at least tonight.”

“Won’t you need a ride back?” Kibum asked, only to extend Taemin’s presence in the premises as he waited on instructions. “You’ll be lost once you’re out.”

“No, thank you.” Taemin pressed the button for the elevator, “I know exactly where I am.” He leisurely stepped into the elevator and saluted conceitedly, putting on his Raybans before he pressed a button, mouthing _goodbye_ as the doors closed.

“Should we go after him?” One of the men asked and Kibum sighed, finally receiving instructions in his earpiece, repeating exactly what Taemin had.

“Don’t bother.”

* * *

  
  
  


“Your strawberry milkshake, Sir.”

“Thanks.” Taemin let the waiter place the milkshake before him and watched him leave before he picked up the straw, fidgeting with its packaging as his gaze slowly shifted from the waiter to the man seated in the opposite booth. He had company, three ladies and two men. It was late in the afternoon yet the place was packed. Despite that fact, their table was the noisiest in the restaurant.

Taemin finally opened his straw and dropped it into his milkshake, taking a long sip as he adjusted his clear, bold-rimmed Ray-Bans on his nose bridge, taking the help of the augmented lenses to aim. He pressed the pattern on the side of his frame, and the joint of them opened up to reveal a tiny compartment. A minuscule pellet zoomed out from the space before the gap swiftly latched shut. Taemin watched the course of the pellet through the augmented view of his glasses and his eyes glinted with victory when the pellet had hit the neck of his target, dissolving on his skin. The man touched that part of his neck in slight confusion before brushing it off as an insect and continued with his conversation.

Taemin called for the bill and left as soon as he settled it, passing by the glass window, smirking to himself when he saw his _target_ collapse in mid-conversation, causing an uproar in the entire restaurant.

He turned, stopping to cross the street and his phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans, making him pull it out right away. His phone screen was filled with encrypted jargon which got decrypted in his glasses instead of on the phone screen, displaying the Elysian logo before revealing his next target.

_Choi Minho. Loved to Death._

Taemin let out a chuckle at the words flashing in his view and he hummed, enticed by the message he had received.

“Choi Minho…” He whispered under his breath, “You asked for it.”

* * *

  
  


Taemin had stepped out of his hotel room for a drink at the bar on the ground level and was lazily sipping on his whiskey as he watched the TV on the premises, sitting in one of the bar stools at the counter.

_Wong Sungjoo, head of emerging industrial manufacturing company, WSJ, has died of a drug overdose during his business trip to San Francisco. The young businessman collapsed while dining at a famous diner near his hotel and was immediately rushed to the hospital but was announced dead on arrival at the ER. The instance of his death has revealed Wong’s long history of drug abuse and has brought many of his close contacts such as Kinboshi’s CEO, Hiroshi Ueda under suspicion for illegal usage and distribution of drugs through–_

Taemin got distracted from the news by the song the lounge singer had started to sing, her voice pouring out the speakers and overpowering the sound of the TV.

_I see you watching me  
Eyes on your target_

Taemin played with his drink, amused by the lyrics, his eyes on the reflection he could see on the glass table.

_Mix drinks and smoke rings  
It's already started_

He noticed a shuffle beside him, yet he did not react and continued to play with his drink.

_It won't be too long before me and you  
Are doing what lovers do_

“Subtle.” Taemin finally said, turning on his stool to face his company, a smirk tugging at his lips, “You just couldn’t wait, could you?” He asked, “It has barely been a week since you’ve been assigned to me, besides, I haven’t accepted it yet.”

“Patience is not my strongest virtue,” Minho answered, dragging his stool closer and taking Taemin’s glass from him, “And yet…” He took a sip, “I have waited _months_ , hoping you’d humor me again.”

“I have been humoring you,” Taemin took back his glass, “By letting you _live_.” He took a graceful sip, humming as he asked, “How much did it cost you to put your name on _Eden_? And for the custom made rifles?”

Minho raised his brows, chuckling in surprise at Taemin’s knowledge. He pondered for a moment, “Um… a lot.” He reached for Taemin’s hand that was resting on the counter, “But it was worth every penny. You look so hot with a gun, babe. I had to give you a reason to pull it out.”

Taemin watched Minho hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it with his thumb, “What’s the deal with your cousin?”

Minho chuckled, “Just a tiny favor I asked of him to spice things up. I wouldn’t give him C-ware shares for free now, would I?”

“Jonghyun?”

“No trick there, he is just doing his job.”

“What about the assassination attempts before you hooked up with me?” Taemin asked, intrigued at the way Minho continued to caress his hand, “Someone wanted you dead then.”

“And you took care of him for me.” Minho answered slowly, lifting Taemin’s hand and kissing his knuckles before he continued, “With a bullet that went straight to his head, breaking through a bulletproof car.”

Taemin freed his hand and grabbed his collar, pulling him close, eyeing Minho’s lips, at the way he was waiting with bated breath for their distance to clear but Taemin whispered instead, “Now comes the real question. How did you find out I was a hitman?”

“It dissolves in seconds in water, but,” Minho whispered back, caressing Taemin’s cheek, his eyes following the trail of his finger, before meeting his eyes, “The reaction has a distinct smell, if only for those few seconds. _Shizin_. I bet it is your favorite poison.”

Taemin let go of Minho’s collar and got up, stepping into the space between Minho’s parted legs and Minho’s eyes widened in excitement as Taemin grew close, lifting his face by the chin. “Not anymore.”

Minho smirked, “Anything else you need me to answer?”

“I needed no answers, to be quite honest…” Taemin said rather nonchalantly, his one hand on Minho’s shoulder and the other reaching for Minho’s belt and tugging at it. His enlivened eyes were on Minho’s as his hand drifted below his belt, kneading atop the fabric, making Minho shudder in a bout of pleasure. “I was just humoring you.”

“ _Fuck_ –” Minho breathed, his gaze lowering to Taemin’s lips and Taemin let out a breathy chuckle, answering his gaze, leaning down and kissing him. 

Minho’s hands came winding around Taemin’s waist and Taemin cupped his face with one hand, the other trailed down his neck and to his collar. He broke away, biting Minho’s lip when Minho kissed him again, smirking as he gently caressed the flush in Minho’s lower lip, “You look so hot wrapped around my little finger... _babe_.”

Minho let out a chuckle, kissing the finger Taemin had been rubbing his lip with, “So, I see I had you charmed from day one.”

“You had,” Taemin whispered and Minho felt something cold against his neck and he lowered his gaze, finding Taemin holding something– probably a pocket knife– to his throat. “But the question is…” Taemin continued, letting the blade dig in a little further, “Have you charmed me enough?”

“Enough for you to not kill me?” Minho swallowed, the little sting at his neck doing nothing to calm his fervor as his eyes returned to Taemin, whose gaze was imperious.

“Maybe not.”

“Then why didn’t you kill me?”

“Yet?” Taemin hummed, “I do want to kill you, but there is something else that I want more than your death.” Taemin ran his finger along Minho’s cheek, “Besides, what’s the rush? Your life is mine now… it would be a shame to not use it before disposing of it.” He tilted his head, “Do you regret it now? Choosing to bear the consequences?”

Minho swallowed, his eyes glazed, “Never.” 

Taemin’s lips curved up in victory and he removed the blade from Minho’s throat. He raised his hand, bringing the bloodstained knife in Minho’s view, and folded it with a snap before he leaned in to whisper against his ear, “Then, see you soon… _boss_.”

Minho let out a breath, his trembling hand reaching to touch the little cut on his neck, yet his eyes were fervidly stuck on Taemin, watching him leave the bar.

A drink glided across the counter and Minho turned to the sound, finding Kibum dressed as a bartender, standing a couple of feet away on the other side, pouring himself a drink as well.

“You didn’t have to tag along,” Minho dragged the drink close before pulling out a tissue, pressing it to his neck.

“He could’ve killed you,” Kibum answered, stepping closer, dragging his drink along the counter with his steps. "He's the only one who can now."

Minho chuckled, pulling out his phone which had pinged with a notification that read, _Mission accepted by Agent X72_

“Sir,” Minho looked up from his phone at the meek voice addressing him, finding a hotel staff standing with a red box, adorned with a black bowtie– _his_ black bowtie, “I was asked to give you this. It’s from your… um… lover.”

“Oh?” Minho raised his brows in amusement and accepted it, “Thank you.” He opened it as soon as the man had left, finding a pair of handcuffs placed inside, cushioned by red silk, and words scrawled on the inside of the box, _I am asking. Room 907_.

“You're right. He could’ve killed me. He still can… and in the most horrific ways imaginable.” Minho answered Kibum’s question, his eyes glinting with impatient mirth as he gazed at the contents of the box. “But he won’t.”

“Just wait until he finds out that you _own_ Elysian.”

“Oh, didn’t you realize?” Minho raised his brows, closing the box, “He already knows,” He smiled, “That I’m his... _boss_.”

Kibum blinked in surprise, growing thoughtful for a moment before he said, “Then he’s better off dead.”

“He would’ve been,” Minho pulled out the lighter from his pocket and pressed a button on the side. The bottom slid open and blue pills fell into Minho’s glass, “Had my risk not paid off.”

“What risk?”

“Do you remember I asked you to damage some of the equipment in CK’s warehouses in Japan?”

“Yes. So that you can close it down for repair and use the losses to corner Kinboshi into lowering their demands.” Kibum raised a brow in question, “You even had me unscrew ceiling fans, and shelf racks and wheels, for _dramatic effect_.” 

Minho laughed softly, “Oh, it was _so_ dramatic. You should’ve been there.”

“That wasn’t what I asked about. Why keep him alive?”

“Simply put,” Minho got up, dropping the lighter into his glass as well, “I am hopelessly and helplessly whipped for him.”

“What–”

But Minho tucked the box under his arm and started to leave, giving him a wave without turning back.

“He’s playing with you, at best,” Kibum called out and Minho laughed at his words. He got into the elevator and pressed the button for the ninth floor, humming along to the song fading out as the elevator closed.

The door for 907 was left ajar and he entered, finding Taemin leaning against the doorframe into the bedroom, dressed down and playing with an earpiece which he switched off before looking at Minho.

“You are reckless.”

“Exactly,” Minho chuckled, undoing the bug Taemin had snuck under his collar and dropping it, and it got crushed under his shoe as he approached Taemin, “Aren’t we a perfect match?”

Taemin hummed, "In some ways."

“In all the ways that matter.”

Taemin stepped forward, winding his arms around Minho’s neck, “We shouldn’t be involved.”

Minho wrapped his arms around Taemin’s waist, pulling him closer, “But here we are.”

“Hmm, this is not going to end well.”

“More reason I’m not letting this end.”

“Even if I say…” Taemin leaned closer, eyeing Minho’s lips, “I’m playing with you, at best?”

“Play me as much as you want, babe,” Minho chuckled, “Life’s a game,” He kissed Taemin’s arrogant smile, whispering the rest against his lips, “And mine happens to be in the right hands.”

* * *

  
  


_End_


End file.
